


Dragon Queen

by Astlyr23



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2018-10-17 07:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 82,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10589166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astlyr23/pseuds/Astlyr23
Summary: The Dragonborn has defeated Alduin. Left with no destiny she creates her own. She sets off in search of a new adventures in Thedas.





	1. After Sovngarde

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these characters. They are property of their respective game companies. This is a work of fanfiction.

I am the last of my kind, the last of the Dragonborn. From the day, I was born It has been my destiny to destroy Alduin, world eater, the first of the dragons. I was only 20 winters when I defeated him in Sovngarde surrounded by my kin and heroes. I had been hunting him for three years across Tamriel. I had fought countless foes, succeeded in ending a civil war, destroyed a faction of ancient vampires, while earning every title in Skyrim. Including Listener and Guild master. Once I stepped out of Sovngarde I was no longer sure of my destiny or purpose in the world. For a year, I wandered aimlessly rooting out the last remnants of evil where I could find them. By the time the first anniversary of my defeat of Alduin came around I found myself sitting next to my dear friend and mentor Paarthurnax. Sensing my distance Paarthurnax spoke.

“Dovahkiin Drun Hi Krosis?[1]” His thu’um was laced with concern. I let it wash over me, the power of the words fills my very soul.

“Zu’u Los Sizaan, my friend. I do not know what I am to do know.[2]” I answered. I had spent the last three months with him perfecting my thu’um and mastering the language of the dragons. “Alduin is dead. I have fulfilled my destiny and am lost without it.”

Paarthurnax hums in response, I have come to learn that this indicates when he is in deep thought. We both sit in silence letting the sound of the perpetual storm around the peak lull us into a state of meditation. It took what seemed like hours till Paarthurnax spoke once more.

“Siiv Hin Dez Dovahkiin. This is what advice I can give you. You must now create your own path in life. I do not have all the answers for you, I have taught you all I know. You are Dovahkiin, Dragonborn, you carve your own path.[3]” His wisdom gives me a sense of direction I had not felt in months. I know what I must do. Turning to him I spoke some of our last words for many moons.

“Kogaan Fahdon. Until we meet again.[4]” I turned to leave but stop at the last second and let out a fiery breath in his direction as a dragon Farwell. “Yol![5]”

As I walked down the 10,000 steps I heard in the distance “Bo Dovahkiin.[6]”

 

Fifteen Years have passed since that night. I think to myself. I stand on the balcony of my room in the Blue Palace in Solitude. I traveled the world for a year learning about all the different cultures of the Empire. I took Parthian’s advice to heart and made my own destiny. I had decided enough was enough with the disunity in the Empire, and the oppressive iron rule of the Aldmeri Dominion. It took me four years to raise a large enough army. I had started in Skyrim, my home, there I won over the people and the Jarls eventually becoming High King. As High King, I improved the rights of all non-Nords and encouraged mage to practice and teach their craft. Though my ideas and policies were unpopular at first the Jarls came around once they saw their wealth and stability increased. In the second year of my reign Skyrim was invaded by forces from Solstheim, with Miraak the first Dragonborn leading them. We met upon the plains of Whiterun where he challenged me to single combat. Ours was a long and bloody battle. The land will forever be scared on that site. We fought long and hard for many hours until finally at the rising of the full moons I stood victorious with his bloody corpse at my feet. It was at the moment I raised my blade in victory that both armies kneeled before and pledged their allegiance.

We later found out that Miraak had brainwashed the inhabitants of the island into being his slaves and army. We patched them up and rebuilt their homes.  On the eve of the First of New Star I rallied my army to me. I made no promises to them and asked them to help me end tyranny and corruption. The noise of 10,000 warriors rivaled that of a dragon’s Thu’um. We marched at daybreak toward High Rock with the sun at our backs.

Our conquest was six years long. I had created a set of rules for my army. We did not kill non-warriors. We did not desecrate items of religion no matter how different from ours. The standard no raping or pillaging. I wanted this to go as bloodless as possible. When I first entered a new nation, I petitioned an audience with the ruler of the land. I presented the term of surrender along with a plan of integration with my new Empire. Many place I went first were those who had been oppressed by both the domain and the Empire and were eager to read my proposal. But not all were as willing. In the last two years of my campaign the Dominion had decided that I now a serious threat and commanded the Emperor to eliminate me. The ensuing battles lasted days, with my armies slowly inching their way to the capital where the Emperor was. After months of bloody conflict with no end in sight I took matters into my own hands. I had killed one emperor why not a second. It was in my nature as Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, I was at peace with that part of me. A part of me came to this decision for my army. They were far from their homes away from loved ones. Many had already died and many more would die before we reached the capitol.

I donned my Dark Brotherhood Armor in the dead of night. My near white blonde tresses covered by a masked hood. It had been many years since I had painted my face or needed to hide it. I still took contracts for the Night Mother, I could still hear her leagues upon leagues away. I was confident that Aziz had everything under control. Being the head of all the factions of Skyrim I had unique resources at my disposal. I received reports from all my second in commands on a weekly basis detailing the activities of the guild. With every nation, I conquered I reached out to the branches of my factions there and made peace with them as well, ever expanding my net of influence. 

I stepped out into the balmy Cyrodiilic air and summoned Shadowmere. He whinnied when he saw me. I always rode Shadowmere into battle not only for the effect but also because he was undead. Now I needed him to blend into the inky darkness of the new moon. I leapt on to his back and we took off.

In the wee hours of the night the walls of the Imperial City greeted me. It was a simple matter for a thief and assassin of my caliber to scale them without detection from the guards. It is only the stars that see me for not even the moon is out tonight. My chosen sign, the thief shine with extra care tonight.

At the very top of the Imperial palace was a single balcony marking the Emperor’s chambers. I swung my upper body up onto the balcony and landed with my feet resting on the railing. I made no sound as I preformed the needed movements. The door to the interior was locked with a master level lock, which I quickly dispatched. To my surprise the room was not dark but lit by the light of both a solitary candle and the glowing remnants in the ornate fireplace. The room itself was as lavish as one would have thought. The walls were heavy with trophies ranging from weapons to creatures. The floor was covered in pelts of exotic animals. I picked out many of the native saber cats of my homeland. All around the room glittered goblets and plates of solid gold. The bed was gilded itself with curtains of the thinnest and finest silk surrounding it. My eyes did not linger on those objects but rather on my target. The Emperor was seated next to the dying fire in a rather simple, compared to the rest of the room, chair. It had a twin placed a little way from it as if in waiting for two souls to sit and converse.

“I have been waiting for you Dragonborn.” His voice was quiet and steady. I took me back to the first time I had assassinated an Emperor. He had met his death with dignity and honor befitting his station. I decided to grant him the same request as his predecessor had asked of me. Crossing over to sit in the second chair I spoke.

“Greetings Emperor.” My tone was even. I had never bothered to learn his name. As far as I was concerned he was merely a puppet of the Aldmeri Dominion. Neither of us took our eyes off each other. His were a muddy brown. His entire complexion was that of atypical imperial. There was nothing that stood out about him. No aura that often-surrounded royalty. What did set him apart is that he looked me directly in the eyes. Not many dared look me in the eyes. I had been told that my eyes were like those of my fellow Dovah, only mine were silver and streaked with the fire that burned just beneath our skin. My eyes never let anyone forget what I truly was. As I had done with the last Emperor, I removed my mask to let him see the face of his death.

“I have been misinformed. I was lead to believe that you were more dragon that human, with scales covering your face, horns atop your head and talons at the tips of your fingers.” His comment made me chuckle. It was true that I wore the jagged crown into battle to give the illusion of horns and to solidify my position as High King and Dragonborn. It added to my already fearsome reputation. At my chuckle, he flinched slightly for it was an even rarer occurrence than looking me in the eyes. As a dragon, my voice always held a layer of power be it either a mere whisper of a hearty chuckle there was that other worldliness to it.

“I believe we have the Dominion to thank for those rumors.” I said continuing to chuckle. “Thank you your Majesty, I have not laughed like that for many moons. One tends not to have luxury to laugh freely when in a position of great influence and power, as you well know.” At that he nodded and chuckled as well.

Our laughter quickly died out as the gravity of the situation at had come back to us. I wanted to clear the air before I did what I came to do. He deserved to know that much.

“This is not the first time I have removed an Emperor from power. It was I who assassinated he who came before you. I do not relish in the killing of those not actively fighting against me. But I was contracted to do so and it is my role as a member of the Dark Brotherhood to fulfill the Dark Sacrament. I gave him the same gift I give you now, one single question for me to answer and the choice of how you go to the afterlife. You have two options in the second portion of my gift, you may face me and die as a warrior or ask me to grant a quick and painless death. I shall give you a few moments to decide and come to peace with your life. To not ask me to spare you for we both know I cannot do that. This war must come to an end, taking your place as ruler of the Empire bring me one step closer to ending it.” I finished and folded my hand underneath my chin in waiting. I watched as the Emperor closed his eyes in contemplation of my words. After a few minutes of silent thought, he opened his eyes and once again lifted his eyes to me. In a steady voice for one staring into the eyes of their death he answered.

“What are your ultimate goals of your conquest?” His question did not surprise me, I had figured that he would ask something along those lines. I replied with what was the truth.

“Freedom of all people, equality, prosperity and peace. It is time to usher in a new golden era.”

“Thank you Dragonborn, as to the second part of the gift I wish for a painless death for I am no warrior.”

I stood as he stood crossing to the center of the room. He kneeled as the Emperor before him had, as if in prayer. I sent a quick prayer to my father Akitosh that the might accept this man’s soul into the afterlife of his people. I also sent a blessing to Sithis, as was custom before a kill. I unsheathed the Blade of Woe and positioned it to rest on the place of his back where his heart was located.

“May the spirits of your ancestors take you to their sides, may Arkay bless your travel to the afterlife.” I whispered the last part of “Hail Sithis” With those final words I slipped my blade into his heart. I had coated the blade with a paralysis poison so he would not feel a thing. I did not remove the blade until the light went out from his eyes. As I wiped of the Blade of Woe I contemplated my actions. I had once more disposed of the ruler of the Empire and this time I would take the throne. I knew what I had to do next. I summoned my spectral Assassin Lucian Lachance. He materialized in a puff of blue mist. He greeted me with his usual line of.

“My Listener?”

“Return to my camp and deliver these messages to my generals at once.” I produced three sealed letters from pocket and handed them to him. Inside was instruction on what to do in the next day. Lucien nodded, took the letters and left to do my bidding.

I changed from my Dark Brotherhood Armor and once more donned my dragon scale set complete with the Jagged Crown. I couldn’t just leave the Emperor’s body on the floor so I moved him to the bed and arranged him in a peaceful manner with his hands folded across his chest. Before leaving the room, I moved to the largest display case in the room. The case held the Amulet of Kings. It marked the ruler of Cyrodiil and by extension the Empire. I removed it from the case, lifting it over my head to let it rest on my breastbone. I slowly descended the stairs until I reached the throne room. In the center sat the seat of the Empire. I was nearing daybreak and the court officials, advisors and all the rest who gathered daily in the hall were going to be rising soon. I took a seat in the throne and waited.

What happened after that was a flurry of action. When the court walked in to see me sitting on the throne the guard surrounded me but I easily disarmed them with a shout, revealing my identity to them. When they questioned me about the location of the Emperor I informed them quite plainly. They all rushed upstairs to confirm my tale. As the returned to the hall the city bells could be heard and in the distance the trumpets of an approaching army resounded. The city surrendered once they saw my army in its entirety standing outside the city walls, and when they saw the Amulet of Kings around my neck. I was coronated within the fortnight.

It took me five months to sort out the nonsense that was the Empire. Not everything about the transition went smoothly as is expected. I was informed of many assassination plots by the Dark Brotherhood. I brought those who had ordered the contract to trial for the crime.  Once I had established a working government it was time to defeat on final enemy, the Aldmeri Dominion.

Like with all others before them I tried to negotiate for peaceful surrender first but in their arrogance and pride refused, declaring that they would burn every member of my army. I welcomed their challenge. I do not often give myself over to my dragon bloodlust during battle, but this battel was different. Our two armies stood at attention facing each other as countless times before. I let my Thu’um carry across the field of battle telling any who surrendered now would be spared death. I was answered with silence. ‘So be it’ I thought. Instead of a shout I let lose my Nord battle cry as my ancestors before me had done.

The Dominion elves were ruthless and efficient cutting down all who stood in their path, but so was I. I let loose the dragon in me, annihilating all who stood against me. The elves saw my ferocity and attacked with renewed vigor, refusing to let someone of a race whom they had deemed inferior to them defeat them. The battel rage with countless lives lost on both sides. By nightfall the ground had been saturated with the blood of the fallen. The Dominion had retreated some ways back but I allowed them no reprieve. I hunted them down, releasing ice, fire and wind from my Thu’um. After hours of violence and gore the Dominion was in shambles and surrendered to my rule. I was finally over. I had won my war and now came an equally difficult task of ruling the empire and ushering in a golden age for the land.

 

I return from my memories and observe the celebrations going on down below me. Tonight, is the festival of light, I created this festival to commemorate the end of the war five years ago, all the festivities were tonight and tomorrow was the high Council meeting.

 These last five years had proven dust as trying as the ten years before it. Reconstruction had not been completed until midway through the second year. Trade resumed the third year. Governments finally stabilized in the fourth year. This past year the first fruits of our efforts had started to come to fruition. My council and I had written new laws into the older ones of the empire. It stated that all races were equal and had equal rights. All nations were equal within the Empire and were free to worship freely. The Orcs were reinstated in the homeland and the Khajit were finally welcome into the cities of Skyrim. Occasionally I would be drawn into battle with someone who violated those laws set down by the Council. I did not ask my people to blindly follow me but rather to question my decisions should they not see my reasoning behind them. All nations kept their own government but added a representative that would come to the capital for reports and meetings. Even the elves accepted the way things had become, though begrudgingly at first, and prospered just as much as the rest of the Empire. I returned to Skyrim to both set up a new capital and reconnect with Paarthurnax. He had been glad to see me. While I had been away he had made, the remaining dragons see sense and they ceased their hostilities toward man. They saw what I had done and named me their leader. I too incorporated them into this new world.

A nock at my chamber door rouses me once again from my musings. It is an assistant to my advisor of Foreign relations. He speaks in a timid tone.

“I apologize for disturbing you your Majesty, but my master requires thy presence in his study.”

I nod in acknowledgment, proceeding to move towards the door causing the poor man to nearly ump out of his skin when he sees me walk to him. I open the door, motioning him to follow, and walk down the many flights of steps to my advisors’ chambers.

I open the door of my advisor’s office, revealing a compact workroom filled with books and papers. My advisor is an Imperial man in his mid-40’s.

“Is there something I can help you with Valgus?” I inquired. My advisors did not often call individual meetings with me. My daily council with them was usually enough to solve any problems that arose. Valgus looked up from his work with an almost worried look on his face. His voice carried a note of urgency I was unused to from him.

“Yes, you Majesty. I wanted to inform you of this before the High Council tomorrow. We have just received word of a continent across the vast sea. We received a letter requesting your presence by The Empress of Orlais. We know very little about this land if anything at all. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

My mind was racing. ‘A new land’. My wanderlust rose at the prospect of the unknown. I had to keep my composure. I nod.

“Thank you, Valgus, for informing me. This is most unexpected. This will be the first item the Council address tomorrow all others can wait.” With that I leave with a flick of my cape. I return to my chambers and think about the information I have just received. I yearn for the excitement of a new challenge. My dragon blood never lets me stay idle for too long. It is also my duty as the ruler of the land to parlay with other rulers. My mind is made up. I will travel to this new land.

I call the council as soon as I can to discuss this new development. They are initially hesitant to respond to the letter and do not want me to travel there. They cite that the Empire cannot function without me. I tell them that the council can run without me and my second in commands will have specific orders should a situation arise. I tell them that I will be going with or without their blessing. I remind them that I am the Dragonborn before I am the Emperor. They concede knowing that I have a network of both seen and unseen allies working for me. I pack all that I need to go adventuring. Before I leave I ask Valgus what the name of the land is called. He answers.

“Thedas.”

 

[1] Dragonborn, what causes you sorrow. What is wrong.

[2] I am lost.

[3] Find you destiny Dragonborn.

[4] Thank you or blessings friend.

[5] Fire

[6] Fly Dragonborn.


	2. Denirim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn has landed in Denirim. She is in for a few surprises when learning about Thedas.

I took me two months to reach Thedas by ship. As we crept closer to the coast we were set upon by pirates, twice. The first we easily dealt with, the second was far more interesting. The captain of the ship was a fierce woman named Isabela. She saw me besting her men and challenged me to a duel. She used a double sword technique, focusing on speed and dexterity. Unfortunately for her I excelled with all fighting skills. We came to a draw with the offer of sharing a drink, an offer I gladly took.

No one knew who I was, I had specifically commissioned this ship and crew because they did not know my identity. It was nice to converse with someone without them cowering in fear of me. Isabela was a woman of charm and wit, she reminded me of Brynjolf back home in Riften. She told me she was fleeing from a city called Kirkwall after her friend Hawke the Champion of Kirkwall had defeated the Arishok to save her. After those events, she said that a rouge mage named Anders destroyed the cities Chantry and plunged the world into a war of Mages versus Templars. These talks served to educate me on the culture of Thedas somewhat. I offered to give her a map leading back to Tamriel as a place of refuge. She refused and said she needed to return to her homeland. I thanked her for her company and conversation with the invitation to join her crew should I ever decide land was no longer what I wanted.

We reached the city of Denirim, the nation of Fereldan’s capital. I disembarked from the ship to find myself in a new adventure.

I look around at all the people milling about the port. I see no Argonians or Khajit. I do see elves, small as they may be. I notice that I am a whole head taller than all those around me, even taller than the childlike elves. I had picked up the language of the eleven, among a few, during my conquests. I stroll over the nearest one. A slight chap wearing a plain off whit tunic and brown leather pants. His skin is pale with an almost human looking face. His hair is brown and close to his scalp. He is carrying a basket full of fish. As he sees me approach he starts to walk a tad faster in fear, that is understandable due to my height and armor. I call out to him in elvish.

“Felas[1] Falon[2].” He still immediately at my words nearly dropping his word. At his hesitation, I cross the distance separating us. I speak once more, this time in common. “Peace my friend I mean you no harm. I only wish to ask a question of you.”

I can see he shaking, terrified at what I might do. He clutches the basket to him. I lower myself so that he might better see my face and recognize I truly mean him no harm. His eyes go wide. He nods his head. In a trembling voice he asks.

“How can I help you my lady?” I smile to reassure him. He flinches at my display of teeth, at that I immediately close my lips.

“I wanted to ask directions to the local inn. I am a traveler and need a room for the night. Perhaps you can help me.” He nods once more. Instead of answering he points down a street going left. I stand, thanking him. Before he leaves I press a few silver into his hands for his help. His eyes once again go wide with shock, he starts to bow in gratitude but I leave before he can.

I find the Inn right before sundown. It’s a small place called the fisherman’s rest. The inside is crowded with dock workers just finishing their shifts. The air is ripe with unwashed  bodies, smoke and cheap ale. My nose nearly wrinkles in disgust but I have delved into crypts where the stench of death pervade everything around you. There seems to be only humans in the establishment, no elves. Who I assume is the Innkeeper is a greasy portly fellow. I briskly walk over not wanting to spend any more time in this atmosphere. I slap a few coins on the counter. He quickly swipes them into his hand while simultaneously handing me a key with a number engraved on it. At that our interaction has ended.

My room is at the end of a dark narrow hall. As I walk past several doors grunts and moans reach my ear. Great I have chosen not only an inn but a brothel. I walk with my head down trying to drown out the unpleasant sounds of animalistic sex. The deeper into the hall I go the more my nose burns. My dragon nature has bestowed more than the gift of the Thu’um on me.

Once I reach my room I place my pack on the bed away from thee vile floor.  I rummage through my pack to retrieve a bit of bread and cheese I had left over from my sea journey. I have only a small portion of both left, I will have to buy more tomorrow. As I finish my meal I start take an inventory of the rest of my supplies. My apothecary satchel is still full thankfully, I don’t know what type of plants grow in this land and no way of knowing their properties. All my weapons and armors are intact, everything looks to be in order. Satisfied with that I roll out my bed roll on the provided mattress. Normally I would lie directly on the bed but with what I heard in the hall, I think better of it. I think about what tomorrow will bring as I slowly drift to sleep.

Morning comes all too quickly. I awake at dawns light, a byproduct of my days at war. Not wanting to take the chance of my things being stolen I take them with me as I leave. The inn is silent when I make my way back to the main room. The innkeeper is nowhere to be found, so I take the key with me.

Like all cities in the morning the pollution from the people living and working there hasn’t yet destroyed the air. The evening dew still hangs wet on the air. I have no idea where a market is so I start to wander until I find some other people with baskets laden with good walking down a mains street. As I walk behind them, not bringing attention to myself, I listen in on their words. They are talking about the same war that Isabela had told me about.

“I hear that the Templars have completely rejected the Chantry’s authority.”

“I heard. The servant at the Chantry here told me that Devine Justinia is calling a meeting of the Templars and mages at the Temple of Sacred Ashes in order to discuss peace.”

Fascinating I think to myself. I must go to this meeting and witness this. I continue to walk behind them; their talk has now turned to idle gossip about the King Alistair and their neighbors. Only here and there do I pick up anything of note.

We arrive in what I assume is the town center. There is a large canopy with many vendors underneath it. I amble through the stall trying to pick out a food stand. Looking around I completely miss a person in front of me, resulting in me running into them. I don’t fall but the poor person I crashed into does, with a loud thud.

“For the love of nugs and idiot children!” An angry loud voice calls from the ground. I look down and to my total astonishment sits a Dwemer. How could that be, they were all extinct.  I crouch and offer my hand and apologies. My carelessness had caused not only his fall, but it caused him to drop his load of ores. He is short, not that I know anything about Dwemer biology, with a fire red beard braded into intricate styles. His hair goes to his shoulders and is pulled back in a low ponytail at the base of his neck.

“My apologies Ser. I was not watching were I was going.” He brushes my hand away with a grunt, lifting himself off the dirty ground.

“of course you weren’t ya Topsider. No I have to clean up all this iron ore.” He gathers a vast amount of ore into a crate but before he can pick it up I scoop it up into mine. “Be careful with that Topsider, your kind can’t lift that much weight.”

At this I smile easily lift the crate with one hand placing it on my shoulder. His eyes bug in amazement. I chuckle under my breath.

“Where to Ser?” I ask. He grunts leading the way to a small shop with a smelter attached to it. The inside is sweltering with the constant clang of a hammer in the background. He points to a corner near the mouth of the forge.

“Put it there.” I place it down with ease and precision. “I have to hand it to you topsider not many of your kind can lift that much iron ore. I’m Torin Vadas.”

I shake the offered hand responding with my own name. “Gwendolyn. I again apologize for running into you. I was looking for a place to buy food.”

“Far side of the market under a red canopy.” That is my cue to exit. Nodding my thanks I leave the shop.

The food stand was where Torin had said it was. They had everything I needed. I got a few stare due to my height, I had put on my leathers this morning instead of my dragon scale, that would have turned some heads. The shopkeeper doesn’t even notice the difference in currency, gold is gold no matter where you go. I ask the storekeeper about the location of a cartographer. He gives me a confused look. I clarify by saying a map maker. He sends me in the direction of a large building that reminds me of a temple.

That is exactly what it is. It turns out to be the local chantry. The inside is simple and there are statues of a woman holding a bowl of flames. All around are priestesses and very few priests. It reminds me of the temple of Mara in Riften. The clerics are robbed in white with red trimming. One of the older ones sees me looking around, lost. She takes it as an invitation to approach me.

“I am afraid if you are here for the service it has already ended. If you are here to inquire about Templar help, they too I am afraid have joined the others in rebellion.” She looks sad when saying that last bit. From what little I have gathered the Templars are holy soldiers of this Chantry.

“Thank you for the information sister but no I was told that I could procure a map from this establishment.” Now it is her turn to look confused.

“My dear why would you need a map. It is not safe to travel the country side these days. What with the Mage Rebellion.”

“I wish to travel to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.” I state with purpose. Her eyes light up with something unreadable.

“Of Course, you wish to worship at the site of where our Lady Andraste’s ashes once stood.” She exclaims folding her hands together as if about to pray. I don’t bother to correct her as there would be no purpose. I know very little about this religion and don’t want to be the recipient of a lesson. She takes my arm, leading me to a desk with paper scattered around it. She riffles around moving papers out of the way. While she continues with her task I take the time to look around the building a little more. Everywhere there are depictions of fire, the sun and a woman. Maybe the worship a hero deity like Talos, but associated with fire. Most people in the building are either reading or praying. I spot someone in the shadows, it is an elf. They are slowly sweeping, in an almost trance like state. They lift their head, I gasp. In the middle of their forehead is the very sun symbol that decorates these walls. Their eyes are glossy, it makes me shudder. Something is not right.

As I turn away from the disturbing scene the sister has finished with her hunt. Handing me the map I ask.

“The elf sweeping. Why is the symbol that adorns your walls upon their forehead?” The woman blinks like I have asked the most obvious question in the world.

“Why because he is a tranquil. Never meet a tranquil? Well they are mages whose magic went out of control so the chantry cut off their connection to magic.” She smiles and nods, as if the fact is the most normal thing in the world. Inside I recoil in horror. ‘Take away their magic. What kind of land is this? Magic is a force of nature it cannot be contained.’ I decide I must know more about this religion if I am to survive here.

“Sister may I ask one more favor of you. I am from far away where we do not have the Chantry do you happen to have a condensed version of your doctrines that I may buy.” Her eyes once more light up.

“Of course, my dear.”

When I leave, I have three books on the Chantry. One is their holy texts, the other two are books on doctrine and practices. They will make interesting reading material on the road. It is twilight as I make my way back to my inn. From a dark alley, I hear a soft voice.

“Help me. Please.” Then there is a scream. I turn on my heels to see three human men pinning a female elf to wall. Their intent is clear. I growl in anger. In my land, there are laws that state should a man or woman be found guilty of committing rape, it was very easy to find out, shall be severely punished.

“Leave her alone.” I command.  I lace my voice with the barest hint of my Thu’um, just enough to change its pitch. All three turn to me and laugh.

“This doesn’t concern you.” One states. I can smell the ale on his breath from here. In fact, all three reek of it.

“It concerns me that you are assaulting this woman.” At that the men sneer.

“What do care for knife ear. They are just rats beneath our feet. Why shouldn’t we have some fun with this one. She knows that we could easily turn her in for a crime and she be convicted.”

With that my anger rises even more. How dare they say that. I draw my glass blade. It is unique as it is red instead of blue or green. Their eyes land on my blade. The third one draws a dagger in response. It is of iron. He approaches lunging at me drunkenly. I easily block it while side stepping him. He falls to the ground. Now he is enraged. He once again charges me, wrong move. I twist my body, landing the hilt of my blade upon the base of his skull effectively knocking him out. As he crumples to the dirt the other two start to shake in fear. The elven woman is still pinned under one.

“I believe I said leave her alone. Leave before you join your friend.” I growl out pointing my blade to them. They immediately release the woman, turning tail disappearing down the ally.

“Are you alright Falon?” I reach a hand to the woman. She flinches but relaxes when I put my hand down.

“Yes, thank you my lady. Why did you help me? Not many humans would help an elf.” Her words concern me.

“Because you called for it and where this my homeland those men would not have been allowed to do or say what they did.” She looks up at my statement.

“I wish such a place existed. Here we must live like rats piled upon one another, looked down upon by humans.” She looks down with anger in her voice. “Thank you again my lady.”

She walks off alone down the same dark alley. I sigh as she goes. This land is just as bad as Skyrim was during the time of Ulfric Stormcloak in terms of racism and fear of magic. I can only imagine how Argonians, Khajit or any other non-human race would be treated here. As much as those saddened me I kept in mind that I didn’t know their histories and should not pass judgement.

The rest of my night offered no more in terms of the unexpected. I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

The world around me was warped and green. The air had an oppressive feeling to it. I had been on many planes of existence but knew not where I was. Everything looked like a mirror had been deformed by dragon fire, a reflection of my world but tainted. Around me strange creature flitted about. Some looked harmless like wisps or the headless horseman seen on warm night in Skyrim. One of the creature, a pale green figure that almost looked human floated next to me. To my surprise, it spoke.

“Why are you here child of the gods?” The title they gave me along with their voice gives me chills up my spine.

“Where is here?” I asked in rebuttal. At my question the figure circles around me in lazy circles staying at eye level.

“This is the fade. A place where spirits live and mortals come to dream. The source of mana for mages.”

“I do feel magic in this place but it is muted, somehow wrong.” The figure flickers. I start to walk past them to explore this strange realm. In the distance, I see mountains and floating structures. I hear a snarl coming from left. It is a flame antroch but not a flame antroch. Its back is hunch, its entire body made of lava. The very essence of the creature screams rage and hate. The figure comes back rushing in front of me, breaking my view of the creature.

“Don’t go near those things, they are demons and will possess you. They want your soul.” I nod in understanding only because it will put the creature at ease. Many beings have vied for my soul over the years but only one shall ever claim it. I start to think about what the figure floating near me is.

“If that is a demon, what are you?”

“I am a spirit, specifically a spirit of wisdom.”

“Nice to meet you?” I follow wisdom around the realm for a while longer. They explain how this realm can be shaped by my memories. They also say that not everything in the Fade is what it seems to be. Those are their parting words before my eyes open with the rising sun.

The events of the night leave me with more questions about this land than before. Wisdom said that all mages here draw their power from the fade. I test my magic to investigate. My mana is the same as always, I do feel a power humming in the air just enough to make the hairs on my arms stand up. I try not to dwell on my many thoughts while packing my stuff for the journey. Before I went to bed last night I consulted the map and figured that it would take me two days of riding Shadowmere to reach the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

I wait till I’m far enough from the city to summon Shadowmere, lest he raise suspicion. The red glowing eyes give him away. I tug his reigns in the right direction, he takes it from there, riding off towards the next adventure.

 

[1] Dragon Age Elven: Felas- Slow

[2] Falon- Friend


	3. Another World Eater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers the tutorial portion of the game. The Dragonborn awakens in chains, again, accused of an unknown crime. Has she found her new destiny or does she face the executioners block again. Again this is a work of fan-fiction I own nothing.

“Run Child.”

“Hurry they are almost upon us.”

Twisted landscapes. Giant tainted spiders. A glowing figure. A woman? So many stairs. Must reach the exit. So, close. Blackness

It is the sting of pain that jerks me from the blackness. My eyes adjust to the dimness of the room. I am disoriented. I move to cradle my throbbing head in my hand, but my hands are shackled. This is not the first time I have woken up as such. The first time nearly got me killed. I can easily break these but I have no weapons. Armed guards surround me, wary now that I have woken up. The pain is their again, it’s in my hand. On my left hand is what can only be described as a tear, yet it does not bleed. Instead it crackles with sickly green lighting. I can feel the magic ooze from it. This is not my magic, this is magic of the Fade.

I am interrupted by the door slamming open. A very angry looking woman marches over to me. She could pass for an imperial wit that look. Her face is pale, flawless save a single scar running her left cheek. Her hair is black, cut short with a braided crown circling the top of her head. Her eyes are warm brown hardened by a steely gaze. The symbol on her armor is like that which I saw adorn the Chantry walls in Denirim. The only difference is an eye in the center of the sun burst.

There is a second woman with her. She stays in the shadow, not allowing me to properly see her feature. I can sense the aura of danger and mystery around her. She blends into the gloom flawlessly as if she were a thief or assassin. While I am watching the woman of shadows the Imperial woman is circling me like a predator. When she speaks, her voice is laced with barely controlled anger wrapped in steel. I have been in dungeons before. I heard that tone used by the Thalmor. A professional interrogator. Her words bring me back.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t just kill you now. The conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” At the word, you she pint her finger in my face in an accusatory manner.

I lift my head weighing my next words carefully. I finally speak.

“And you think I’m responsible.”

She lifts my shackled hands.

“Explain this.” At her demand my palm glows with that sick green light. She throws them down after the flare.

“I can’t.” At my statement the Imperial woman gets angrier. She raises her voice. The woman of shadows has moved to my right with the Imperial on my left.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I don’t know what that is or how it got there.” I am starting grow tired of being bound.

“You’re lying.” Her last syllable is stressed. She grabs me by my front. But before she can do anything more the woman of the shadow intervenes. She directs the Imperial a few feet away. He voice is calm, the opposite of her counterpart’s.

“We need her Cassandra.” So, that is the Imperial woman’s name. Cassandra. The two women are standing in front of the door they both came in through. They only entrance and exit. Cassandra continues to glare while the woman of shadows turn to me.

“I’m confused.” I genuinely am. They have not stated the crime of which I am accused. The only thing I can gather is something happened at the Conclave, with me as its only survivor. Not really a crime. It is the woman of shadows who speaks this time.

“Do you remember what happened? How this began?” It is at that moment I realize I can’t remember a single event after reaching the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I search trying to dig up something but am only met with blankness.

“I remember traveling from Denirim to attend the Conclave but after that nothing.” I try to think harder. I fell a slight pressure. Small flashes of images some to me. “I remember running. Things were chasing me, and then a woman.”

Cassandra stops her circling at the mention of a woman. The woman of shadow comes close enough for me to see her. She is even paler than Cassandra. Her hair is red coming down to her chin. Her hood obstructs my view of any hairstyle she might have. Her eyes are grey, she is quite beautiful. Her garments are deep purple and have the designs for stealth. Clasped at the base of her throat is the same symbol as Cassandra’s armor.

“A woman?” Her tone betrays her shock. I am starting to remember more.

“She reached out to me, but then.” The memories stop there. Cassandra speaks now walking to the woman of shadows.

“Go to the forward camp Leliana. I will take her to the Rift.” I now know her name. Leliana. Leliana heads Cassandra’s words, exiting with a single backwards glance to me.

Cassandra starts to remove my shackles. I am still confused.  
“What did happen?” I ask trying to find some sense in this madness. She lifts me from my sitting position.

“It will be easier to show you.” Her words are ominous. With that we leave the dungeon.

The light burns my eyes as we exit the building. The air is cool. Snow swirls around us. It is the first thing that reminds me of Skyrim landscape from arrive in this land. My nord blood acclimates to the colder temperature quickly. I turn my face to the sky to soak up the sun’s rays. I see the light that blinded me does not come from the sun but from a giant swirling hole in the sky. ‘Well shit.’

“We call it the Rift. Its massive hole into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift. Just the largest.” She had been turned from me to also gaze at the Rift. Finishing her words, she turns back to me. She continues explaining. “All of them were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

“An explosion can do that?” My voice is laced with astonishment. ‘Shor’s bones.’ I must be harder to kill than I thought. The Rift doesn’t scare me. Once you have faced gods and the being whose destiny is to literally eat the world, crazy crap like this becomes normal for you. Casandra replies.

“This one did. Unless we act fast this one will continue to grow until it swallows the world.” ‘By the Nine not another world eater.’ The breach suddenly flares sending out green energy. The mark on my palm repeats that action on a smaller scale. ‘This thing is going to be annoying.’

“Each time the Breech expands so does the mark on your hand and it is killing you. It may be the key to unlocking this but there isn’t much time.” Cassandra looks at me with anticipation. I think hard. ‘My destiny is to destroy the world eater. This thing is a world eater. This is going to be fun.’ I look into Cassandras eyes and answer.

“You have my word, I will do everything in my power to help you stop this.” She seems shocked with my answer. She merely nods leading the way to our destination.

As we walk I notice that the people of this small village stop to glare as I walk past. Cassandra sees this.

“They have decided your guilt. They need it, the people of Haven mourn our most Holy Devine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was chance for peace between Mages and Templars. She brought their leaders, now they are dead. We lash out like the sky but we must think beyond like she did, until the breech is sealed.” Her voice was sad when she mentioned the death of the Justinia. I can assume from that fact that they were close. She draws a dagger and cuts the rope binding my hands. “There will be a trial. I can promise you no more.”

“That’s better than the first time I woke up in chains.” I grin. I stretch out the kinks in my arms, back and neck. “So where are we going?”

“To the forward camp. We shall meet Leliana there and discuss further plans.”

“Let’s get going then.” She gives me a side glance but continues the path. She leads me up a mountainous path in the direction of the swirling vortex of Nope. The breech flares once again causing pain in my hand.  I really need to get a handle on that. Pieces of debris fall from the breech narrowly missing up. It’s just like Alduin’s shout. We come to a bridge but before we get all the way across a massive tremor breaks the bridge apart causing us to fall.

I am stunned for only a second. Cassandra is up in half that time. Her blade is drawn. The lava creature I saw in the fade is now five feet away from us.

“Stay behind me.” Cassandra warns. Fine she wants to fight by herself be my guest. I am content to do so until I notice green crystals bubbling up from the ground. I look around for a weapon, the only thing I can see is a battle axe. ‘It’s better than nothing’ I think to myself. I heft the surprisingly light blade giving it a few test swings before I hear a crackling noise. A green figure like Wisdom emerges from the ground, but unlike wisdom it is hostile.

The demon lunges for me. I do a roll about three feet away from it. What I don’t except is an orb of green magic to come shooting at me. I roll to dodge that attack as well. It starts to come toward me to attack again. I don’t give t the chance. I sprint across the ice hefting the blade over my head bringing it down upon the demon’s head. The feeling when the blade hit the creature wasn’t like anything I had fought before. The blade hit something, yet it did not bleed and passed right through it. The creature screamed in agony. My blow had rent it in two. It dissolves into nothingness, leaving a pile of ghostly remains on the ice. I pilfer through them, being rewarded with an odd green dust. I store it in a pocket for later examination, and possible ingestion. Cassandra has finished off the lava creature. Her sword and shield still raised in preparedness for another attack. She notices me leaning on the battle axe. She then points her blade at me.

“Drop your weapon.” She commands. I sigh.

“The path is dangerous. As we have seen there are multiple of these creatures. It is unwise for me to be unarmed, leaving you to fight by yourself.” She gives me a look but sighs in defeat.

“I suppose you are right.” That settled we tread across the ice headed for the forward camp.

We encounter more demons, as Cassandra calls them. I notice that while she fights every occasionally, she will do special looking move. It is very different from anything I have seen. Seeing as these things aren’t human I fight with more brute strength than finesse. As we climb some more stairs I can here fighting just over the crest.

We reach the source of the sounds. There is what appears to be a mini breech spilling magic into the air. There is a small party fighting the demons swarming around. I run into the fray. We defeat the demons.

“Quickly seal the rift.” At that someone grabs my hand with the mark, thrusting it into the rift. I feel magic flow from my hand. I know what to do though I know not how. I clench my hand into a fist drawing it back. The rift closes with a snap. We finally have a chance to catch our breaths.

“Well that happened.” I say out loud the person who grabbed my wrist turns out to be a pale bald elf. Judging by his staff, he is a mage. “What did you do?”

“I did nothing. It was you who sealed the breech.” He replies. Before I can say anymore Cassandra chimes in.

“If it can close a smaller rift it may be able to close the Breech.”

“It is possible.” The elf nods in agreement.

“Good to know.” A fourth vice chimes in. The owner is a Dwemer. He has orange-ish blonde hair, golden eyes, a crooked nose with a hint of stubble on his face. He is dressed in a red leather duster, with its front open exposing most of his upper chest, which is covered in matching hair. On his back is an odd-looking crossbow. “And here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.”

I let out a laugh at his colorful language. This Dwemer and I shall get along well.

“Varric Tethras. Rouge. Storyteller and occasional unwanted tagalong.” He pointedly says that last one at Cassandra who rolls her eyes in disgust.

“A pleasure Master Varric.” I clasp his hand in the traditional style of my culture. He is confused for a second but shrugs it off.

“You may reconsider that stance in time.” It is the elf that speak. A small smile gracing his lips.

“Will you be joining us in the valley Varric.” Wanting to spend more time with the Dwemer. Cassandra interrupts before he can answer.

“Absolutely not.” Her tone is stern.

“In case you haven’t noticed Seeker, your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” He gives a self-assured grin at the last part. I try not to chuckle at Cassandras discomfort.

“My name is Solas if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live.” His statement conveys an amount of relief.

“He means I kept that mark form killing you while you slept.” Varric quips. I file that information away I shall have to ask him how he did that.

“Andaran atish’an[1] Solas.” His surprise is almost comical. He stops in his tracks.

“You speak elvish?”

“Ma serannas.[2] Ma melava halani.[3]” I speak once more conveying my thanks.

“Ma ane vhalla.[4]” He nods in response. His expression has returned to a neutral form. Cassandra reminds us of our objective.

“We must get to forward camp. She and Solas lead on with Varric and myself in the back. He walks to my side.

“Well Bianca is excited.” He says with an almost chuckle. I give him small half smile in response.

Our journey is continuously halted by groups of demons falling from the breech. Cassandra and I are on the front lines protecting Varric our archer and Solas our mage. Solas use of magic baffles me. His staff is where his power comes from. It does not produce one spell like the staffs at home but many, most focus on the elements. After every fight of throwing a few fireballs he is out of breath. This also confuses me, but I don’t let it show.

Finally, we reach the forward camp. It’s not really a camp so much as it is a bridge that has been barricaded. We spot Leliana is deep discussion with a priest. He very loud and very opinionated. When he sees, me he becomes even more agitated. He demands I be put in chains and prepared for transport. But Leliana and Cassandra stop him. He walks away grumbling under his breath.

“How are things going up here Leliana?” Cassandra questions. Leliana shakes her head.

“More and more demons pour from the Breech, with every minute it grows.”

“We have found a way to seal rifts Leliana. The mark on the prisoner’s hand can seal them.”

“Wonderful, but how are we going to get there?” Leliana implores.

“We shall use a full-frontal attack.”

“We could use the mountain path.” Leliana suggests.

“We lost contact with our scouts there hours ago.” Cassandra states.

“Why don’t we let the prisoner decide.” With that all eyes are on me. I inwardly sigh. I had really hoped to keep my military knowledge under wraps.

“We shall initiate a full-frontal assault. I know that would sacrifice the team in the mountain but if what you are saying the Breech spreading we do not have any extra time.” Leliana looks the tiniest bit downcast at the thought of losing her agents. I can understand that. Cassandra nods at my decision.

We pass by the priest who was making a ruckus, He still looks angry. As we pass he mutters.

“On your head, be the consequences Seeker.” 

[1] Elvish Greeting

[2] My thanks

[3] You helped me

[4] You are welcome


	4. Pride Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn reaches the Temple of Sacred Ashes. There she meets a man with golden eyes wearing the head of a cat.

I have lead in-numerable charges. As I stand waiting for Cassandra’s signal for the assault to start, my mind wanders to the first charge I was a part of. It was the Siege of Whiterun, before I realized that Ulfric Stormcloak was not trying to liberate Skyrim. He was trying to become king by creating needless bloodshed. He was also a racist ass. As a nord the longing of the heat of battle runs through my veins at a near constant hum. The dragon souls don’t help adding to the fire. I am a triune of battle lust, the third component being Dragonborn. Only countless hours of meditation with Paarthurnax has given me control over that haze. As a leader I can no longer relish in the feel of war and blood. But I am no leader here. Here I am a prisoner fighting for survival. Now I face a new world eater, no one will begrudge me letting go when facing my destiny.

There is no other weapon available for me. I asked Cassandra about my belongings. She tells me that they are back at Haven. That is good enough for me, as long as people don’t mess with it. It’s not about me it’s about their safety. I have many let’s just say dangerous items in there. So battle axe it remains. Two-handed isn’t my best category but it will do. The style is more aggressive which suits the environment and enemies.

I see Cassandra give the signal, we charge. We fight our way through throngs of demons. I cut down all within my path. Cassandra bashes a demon with her shield stunning it. Solas sends out lighting, fire and frost. Sometimes the demons freeze completely in their tracks, shattering like glass. Varric stays back with Solas firing bolt after bolt, a few explode. We finally reach the Temple of Sacred Ashes, or what is left of it.

There is a small group of soldires surrounded by demons. They are starting to succumb. Not on my watch. I sprint into the fray brining my axe down of the closest demon to me. It screams in its death throws. The soldier I save nods in thanks, he is badly injured. I could easily use Healing Hands but don’t want to bring more suspicion upon myself.

Something gleams catching my eye. There on the battlefield is a saber cat. A silver saber cat with a mane of fire. I am caught off guard watching this cat fight. His strokes are strong and precise. I don’t notice a spindly demon coming for me. I watch the cat sprint to me leaping into the air bringing it down of the creature. That snaps me out of my daze. I join the cat swinging the demons legs out from underneath it. With the demon dead, along with all the other I can now properly examine the cat. Golden eyes like a saber cat stare back at me from underneath the helm.

“I see you have met our Commander Cullen Rutherford.” Cassandra’s voice breaks the spell. I can only nod. The man speaks through his helm.

“We have secured the way for you seeker. I hope you are right about the prisoner.” He lifts the injured soldier I had helped both retreating in the direction of Haven.

The rest of the temple is but ash and rubble. Burnt charred corpses litter the wreckage. I search the carnage to see if anything is salvageable. The is a single shield with the depiction of an animal with wings. The wings extend outward creating a design near the top. I hand to Cassandra to replace her other shield. She takes it in thanks.

As we walk deeper into the burning wreck Leliana’s troops and archers meet us.

“You made it.” Cassandra nods. I feel power radiating around me. Whatever caused this has not dissipated. It is similar to the feeling I get when I encounter a word wall. I feel its pull drawing me deeper and deeper in. I come to a halt at what appears to have been a courtyard. This is where the power is coming from. Some twenty feet in the air is a massive rift linked to the breech in the sky. It is calm but I do not trust it. I walk around trying to find a way down while Leliana positions her archers around the courtyard. There are red gems the size of children and up everywhere. Their positions are random as if they had just sprouted into being. I reach out a hand to touch but a heinous feeling of corruption slithers from it. I wrench my hand back. Whatever this is it is pure evil. Varric notices my actions and becomes equally as agitated.

“that stuff is red lyrium.” He says to Cassandra a hint of urgency and underneath it fear.

“I know Varric.”

“But what’s it doing here?” His words are becoming increasingly horrified. I don’t know what lyrium is but I can guess that it isn’t supposed to be here.

Solas chime sin about breech.

“The rift is closed but it wasn’t closed properly. We must reopen it the properly seal it.” Cassandra’s eyes go wide. She unsheathes her blade.

“That means demons.”

I’m still trying to find a way down. I can feel a slight buzzing in the back of my skull, like I have missed something. Then a voice rings out.

“Help me.” Cassandra whips her head around searching for the origin of the voice.

“That was Divine Justinia’s voice.” At that moment, my voice rigs out in the courtyard. Buts it’s not my voice, its distorted as if from a memory.

“What’s going on here?” A third voice speaks. It is low with hate lacing every word.

“We have an intruder. Don’t let her interrupt the ritual. Prepare the sacrifice. Kill the human.” Those are the final words spoken then all is silent. Cassandra turns to me.

“You were there. The most Holy called out to you. What happened here?” I shake my head.

“I don’t remember Cassandra.” As the words leave my mouth the rift suddenly opens. From the lighting that strikes the ground a behemoth emerges. It looks like a troll but uglier, meaner and bigger. It lets out a demonic cackle. Then brings out a whip made of lighting. ‘This is going to be fun.’

I let lose my battle cry shaking the ground around me. I don’t hesitate to jump the rest of the way down. Finally, a challenge. The demon respond to my roar with its own. ‘Let the battle begin.’ I raise my axe with a feral grin on my face. I start my charge. I hear the rest of my party drop down as well. I yell back at them.

“Take care of the smaller ones that come through, this one is mine.” The look at me like I am insane. But I don’t care. My blood sings with power, ready to give this creature a fight. It brings the whip down in my direction. I feel the crackle of lightning on my skin but feel no pain. I am unmoved from my path. I hack and slash at it, dodging the whip and bolts of energy from other demons. I bring it to its knees. ‘Now is my chance.’ I leap on to its back bring my axe down on its skull. It tries to buck me off but my axe is too deep.

“Close the rift.” Someone screams. So, I do. I clench my hand into a fist like last time drawing the rift to a close. The battle is won and the rift sealed yet the breech remains. It does not flare again. I sink to my knees shaking from exertion. Varric comes over to me and asks.

“Are you insane.” I give him a wide smile and laugh. Maybe I was insane. It has been so long since a battle thrilled me like this, so long since the last challenge. I revile in it. I reply still chuckling.

“I think you are right.” I promptly pass out.


	5. Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn learns what her deeds have earned her. She makes a certain Commander blush.

I dream of Golden eyes and wolves circling me. I dream of an orb covered in carving, I hear a dragons roar in the distance. I try running to it but reality pulls me back to it.  
I awake with a start. I am unharmed, lying on a soft be. My armor has been removed, replaced by a pair of cotton pants and tunic. I hear a gasp from my left. A small elf woman is there carrying a crate. She sees that I am awake. She drops the crate, falling prostrate.  
“Forgive me my lady. I did not know you were awake.” Her voice is trembling in fear.   
“Peace. I am not angry.” I move to stand from the bed. She springs to her feet inching to the door.   
“Lady Cassandra said to inform her the second you woke up.” She sprints out the door.  
‘Well that went well.’ Now to find something better to wear. I have not been without armor on for nearly twenty years. I look around in hopes of finding my pack, no such luck. I shall ask Cassandra to return it to me when I see her. Leaving me with nothing else to wear I leave in the glorified pajamas.   
The sun greets me as well as the green tint from the Breech. There are soldiers lining the village. Their hands fisted, place dover their hearts in a style of salute. I stride past them headed to the largest building in the vicinity. I’m assuming that is where Cassandra is.   
The building turns out to be a chantry. A very simple one. I can hear voices in the back arguing. I push the door open, all conversation stops. It is the opiated man from the bridge. He glares at me.  
“Bind her.” He commands. I huff, again. Not this time little man. I glare right back at him. Cassandra is there, she tries to intervene.  
“Chancellor Roderick, that is not necessary she helped us stop the Breech from spreading.” He does not look happy at that. He opens his mouth again to speak, I stop him before he can.  
“Try to bind, I dare you. The crime for which I am being falsely accused has not been stated to me nor have I been given a chance to refute these claims. As I am sure you have been told the explosion was magical in nature, I am no mage, and therefore do not have the power to do such a thing.” I do have the power to rend the sky but I don’t tell them that. At my outburst he turns out of the room in a flurry of agitated robes.   
Once the door has slammed closed I survey the room and its occupants. Two of the four I know. Leliana is standing once more in the shadows with Cassandra to my right. There is a third woman. Her complexion is comparable to that of Redgaurds. Caramel skin with dark brown hair pulled up tightly into a bun. Her attire is interesting, with golden material adorned with mountains of ruffles. She carries a pad with paper, a candle and a single quill. She is our ambassador. The final occupant is a man with golden blond hair framing a fair face. A scar runs down his lips. His eyes are familiar, I realize that this is the Saber Cat I saw in battle. The same eyes which haunted my dreams. This is Cullen Rutherford. He could almost pass for a nord with his blond hair, fair skin and bulky build. I hear Cassandra sigh.  
“Well that could have gone better.” The woman in gold nods in agreement. “I am glad you are here. We have much to discuss. First introductions, Cullen and Leliana you already know. This is Josephine our Ambassador.”  
“How do you do my lady.” I say inclining my head in greeting, extending the same to Leliana and Cullen. “I have not introduced myself. I am Gwendolyn.”  
Cassandra motions to the table signaling the meeting had begun. On the table lays a book with the Symbol o Cassandra and Leliana’s armor but with a sword running through it.   
“The people have heard of your deeds, of how you stepped out of the fade. They say a woman was behind you. They are calling you the Herald of Andraste.” Comes soft voice with an exotic accent coating the words. I have never been called a herald before. I don’t even believe in their maker. Who am I to destroy their faith. Cassandra point to the book.  
“This is a holy writ by Devine Justinia, giving me the authority to revive the Inquisition.” I am unsure where she is leading with this.  
“What is my role in all this?” Leliana speaks up.  
“You are the Herald of Andraste. You shall be a beacon of hope for people I these trying times. You did say you wished to help us.” I do remember saying that.   
“Let’s get to work.” I place my hands on the table gesturing for Cassandra to continue. She goes on to talk about a Chantry sister in an area called the Hinterlands who want to meet with me. Her name is mother Giselle. We send out raven with order for the scouts. The mages and templars are still locked in a bloody war, threatening the civilians. After the others leave I stop Leliana asking for a favor.  
“I need one of those ravens.” She give me quizzical look.   
“What for?” Suspicion laces her voice.   
“I wish to send a letter to my family, conveying what has happened ant that I won’t be home for a long while.” In reality I am sending it to my second in command. It will contain orders to carry out in my absence. I set the empire up so that it can function even without me. Leliana still looks suspicious but relents leading me to where they keep the ravens. She leaves me to write my letter. I attach my finished letter to the leg of a raven, instructing it on where to go. I do not know how long it will take for my letter to reach them, I have a backup plan. But it requires darkness.   
I explore the village of Haven, having not had the chance to do so before. There are only about five building aside from the Chantry building. Many tents litter the unused space. Below a slight ledge is a singular fire, with a slightly bored looking Varric standing around it. I leap down to land next to him. He jumps a little at my antics.  
“Glad to see you aren’t dead.” He quips.  
“I’m not sure everyone shares your enthusiasm in my state of living.” I quip back. He nods his head knowing exactly what or more specifically who I was talking about.  
“So the Herald of Andraste, that’s got a nice ring to it. From prisoner to prophet of the Dragon Age. Quite a leap.” He gives a small smile. I smile back, something like this has happened before. I have made father leaps as well.  
“People will say what they will. Who am I to take away their hope. A giant hole in the sky does tend to make hope scarce.” I say gazing past him to look at the still present breach. “Thank you for speaking with me Varric.”  
“If you are free sometime you should join me for a drink over at the tavern one night.”  
“Gladly.”   
I continue my trek. I find the apothecary in a wild tizzy about some lost notes of his predecessor. I glance around to find an alchemy table. No such luck. Oh well I can just requisition the parts needed and build my own. I promise to help the apothecary find the notes, turning to leave I nearly bump into someone. That someone is Solas. I realize that I have yet to thank him. He is about to walk away as I speak up.  
“Ma serannas Solas. It was rude of me to have not thanked you earlier.” I give a slight bow at my words. He again stiffens at my use of Elvish. Most likely unused to non-elves speaking it. He finally replies still wary of me.  
“You are most welcome. I must admit I was shocked to hear you speak Elvahn to me. Not many humans even know a single word in it let alone being fluent in it. Where did you learn it.” His questions are valid, I want to answer fully but know that would only cause confusion and trouble. So I add one more half-truth to my daily quota.  
“I lived among a group of elves for a time. They preferred to speak in their own language so instead of making them learn mine I learned theirs.” The group of elves was the truth but they were a battalion in my army who spoke only elvish. I was required to learn by necessity. Solas is satisfied with my answer. Our conversation does not progress any further.  
I find my way outside the gate of Haven. More tents dot the snowy landscape. There is a building right up next to the wall. I hear the familiar clang of hammer and the smell of coal. I wander in inspecting the work going on. The forge is smaller than most but by no means tiny. There are four stations which confuses me. A single person is at each station doing completely different things from the others.   
An older gentleman notices me standing a little way from the actual forge.   
“you here to be trained? Just what I need another apprentice who doesn’t know one end of the hammer to strike with.” He gruffly asks slightly raising his voice to compete with the sounds around him.   
At his statement, I give sharp genuine laugh. I have not been an apprentice smith for many years. I am nord for crying out loud smiting is in my blood. The man nearly looks offended by my laugh. I hastily explain myself before I can cause more misunderstanding.  
“No good ser, I am no apprentice. I apologize for delay your work in anyway but the forge reminds me of home.” His expression softens to a look of understanding at my explanation. He extends his hand in introduction.  
“My name is Harrit, I run this forge.” I reach out my hand grasping his wrist in a traditional nord handshake. He pauses for a second but doesn’t say anything.  
“My name is Gwendolyn.” I say releasing his hand.  
“Well Gwendolyn, you say that you are no apprentice, care to demonstrate your skills?” Harrit asks motioning to the now empty billows.   
“Gladly.” I must borrow an apron from him so that these flimsy cotton clothes do not catch a spark. I really need to find my things. I look at the materials available to me. I recognize very few but I can see that they have iron. Better than nothing. I heft a few ingots in my hands testing their weight, trying to decide on what I want to make. I decide on a simple sword. The process comes to me like second nature. My training came from Eorlund Grey-Mane in Whiterun. He taught me how to shape the metal and make it do my will. Almost everything I know was taught by him. The fires make my skin glow with an orange tint. I start to sweat as I pound the metal into shape. It is a long arduous task. Every detail must be perfect, the metal tempered correctly lest the blade shatter.   
I put the finishing touches of leather strips wrapping around the hilt to prevent blisters and slipping. It is by no means the most beautiful blade in the world but it had been forged by a master. The edge of the blade is so sharp merely running a finger lightly over it will draw blood. It is neither light nor heavy. I carefully hand the blade to Harrit for inspection. His eyes alight upon the blade. It looks like no other blade made here. I adorned it with the symbols of my people. Designs swirl half way up the flat of the blade.   
“A fine blade if not a curious design.” He gives a slight glance as if asking a silent question. ‘Shit’, I might be found out as not being from here. My accent alone is almost enough to give it away. Thank goodness no one has commented. Harrit notices my discomfort. “But no matter each smith has their own style. Your certainly are no apprentice. Glad to have another competent smith in this place.”  
I incline my head in acknowledgement. We part ways after he has set the sword in a spare sheath. I tell him he can give that to whomever he wishes.   
As I walk away from the forge I notice that I am actually getting slightly chilly. The sweat from my efforts at the forge have completely soaked these terrible clothes. I’m almost warmer in my small clothes. Wouldn’t that be a sight for the population of Haven. But then I remember that I am a prophet to them, it would be unwise to display such undistinguished conduct. Maybe one day. I remember the Cassandra had told me my bag was in the Chantry. Guess that’s my next stop. I turn on my heels headed for the gate. I proceed to collide with something or rather someone. A hand reaches out to grab me in an attempt to prevent a fall.   
“I am sorry my lady I did not see you……” The sentence trails on I am looking into the golden eyes of Cullen. They are stunning, molten gold with the warmth of honey. I see a slight blush grace his cheeks. I would have chalked it up to the wind but this is a shade too bright for cold. His eyes aren’t looking are constantly flicking up and down. ‘Oh. No wonder he is blushing’   
“See something you like Commander?” I tease flirting with him. He sputters and tears his eyes away. I do not feel offended. As a nord I am rather well-endowed in that department. I have gotten used to men sometimes staring. I do not fault them no do I feel shame. I am comfortable in all forms of dress or undress.   
“I apologize Herald. That….” He stumbles cutely over his words turning an even brighter shade. I decide to rescue the poor man from himself.   
“No harm done Commander. I should be wearing more appropriate clothing for the weather. In fact, I am on my way to the Chantry to retrieve my bag.” His blush slightly dissipates at my words but he keeps his head down eyes glued to his feet. He backs up to put space between us. “Honestly Commander no apologies are needed. I myself was not looking were I was going.”  
He lifts his face to mine once more but doesn’t say anything. He hastily nods then almost runs away. ‘That poor man.’  
My quest to retrieve my items proves successful. Ambassador Josephine gives me my bag without fuss. I rush back to my cabin before I am sidetracked once more. Everything is where it should be in my bag. I didn’t bring everything with me just my favorite items and then some extra special items. I dint bring any Deadric Items with me for fear of unleashing those evil creatures upon this land. Choosing an armor is hard not knowing what materials they have or do not have in this land. I decide upon the safe choice of Iron armor, I forgo the helmet. I have not seen any enchanted weapons so I do not bring out mine. I did see a material like glass. I grab a glass sword, strapping it to my side. The battle-ax I had been using is propped up near the fireplace. It has served me well, I shall continue to use it. I once again feel protected and myself.   
This time when I step out of the cabin I do not feel the wind at all. The subtle weight of the armor is comforting. It is time to go to the Hinterlands. I head to the Chantry ready to gather my party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys sorry I haven't posted in a while. I have been busy and have had no time to write at all. Hopefully I should be able to go back to a chapter a day.


	6. Mabari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn readies herself for the mission to the Hinterlands. She receives an unusual companion.

It takes two to gather the troops and the resources needed for the journey. I occupy those days by scoring the surrounding mountain for useful materials. I find an abundance of iron along with a logging stand. I found an abandoned cabin with some notes. They appear to be medical nots. I deliver them into the hands of the apothecary, he is estatic. They were the notes his mentor had left. In exchange for help he gives me a book on healing plants and how to use them. I devour the book like any other I come upon. Turns out the strange plants I had been seeing all over the place were called elfroot and they were the main ingredient of a healing potion. Good to know. I also take the time to finish reading the literature from the Chantry Sister in Denirim. It is a fascinating read but I do not agree with many of their teachings especially about magic.  
I had found Cassandra slashing away at a practice dummy in the training field. She expressed her concern about what would happen because of what we had started. I told her that she believed what she was doing was the best right thing and to not worry about it. Only time could tell. She offered to spar with me. I accepted. She was surprised to see the sword at my hip, she had assumed I only fought with an ax. The match ended with us both sweaty, our chest heaving with exertion. But on our face, were wide grins. All the worries of the moments before had washed away in the tide of practiced movements. She thanked me letting me know that this was the best she had felt in many days.  
While we had been sparing, a small crowd had gathered around to watch. They all wanted to see the Herald of Andraste in action, I think. Or they were just super nosey. I locked eyes upon a familiar pair of golden ones in the crowd. Commander Cullen had been avoiding me since I had caught him staring at my breasts. I do not wish to cause him any embarrassment in public so I look away first. But this cannot go on. If we are to be working closely together for the foreseeable future a much-needed conversation must take place. But not today.  
I wait for the cover of night to execute my back up plan of communication with my Generals back home. The people of this land I have noticed rarely stray outside of their dwellings during the night. It is understandable, especially with the ugly green tear in the sky.  
No one notices me slipping out from Haven in the wee hours of the night. I make sure the guards that they have posted never even know I was there. I sneak into the surrounding forests for some privacy. The world is white from the fresh fallen snow. It is like Winterhold, snow forever falling at a lazy pace. The wind whips stray flakes into my eyes. I hardly notice. My Dark Brotherhood armor protects my face from the stinging ice.  
I stop after half an hour of sprinting. I open my right hand the spell charging blue.  
“I summon you spectral assassin. Come forth as thou art bound to the will of thy Listener.” I whisper releasing the spell, it flies from my palm unto the ground. The spell forms a ghostly aura or blue flames. They dissipate after a few seconds leaving a see through blue form in their place.  
“My Listener.” He kneels. After many years of service, he still kneels. I rarely use the words for the summoning but I still do not have a firm grasp on this lands magic. Being specific with magic helps it from going astray. I know that his service to me is his penance for betraying the Dark Brotherhood years ago but I try not to abuse my power over him.  
“I need you to deliver a message for me again, my friend.” I slip multiple letter from my pocket. They are all addressed to my seconds not only my advisors and generals. “Please deliver these to whom they are addressed. Also tell Babette I said ‘Hello’.”  
He nods taking the letter from me.  
“Thy will be done Listener.” With that he disappears in another ring of blue flames. I have the utmost faith in him. Each letter contained a summary of what has happened to me, telling them to continue with regular business but be ready should I ever need to call on them. The letters to my advisors say the same but omits the shadier of details included in some of the guilds letters. I have no fear of the Council trying to usurp me nor any of my guilds. Very few would be fool enough to betray the Dragonborn, for good reason too. The dragons may put up a bit of a fuss but Paarthurnax can put that to rest.  
My return to Haven is as silent as my departure. The snow has stopped for now giving me the perfect opportunity to star gaze. The moon is not in the sky, must be a new moon. The sky is alight with a small aurora, the stars are tinted slightly green. I cannot recognize any constellations. The green turns my mind to the Breach, then to my hand. The mark does not hurt yet it still glows. I must know what it is. No better time to explore magic than when alone.  
I lower myself on to the snow. I am still far enough from Haven to not be detected. I have been careful not to use any of my magic in fear of these people turning against me. My legs cross in a meditation pose. I place my hands in my lap, closing my eyes to go within myself. My breath slows, only small puffs in the cold air give any indication of being alive.  
When I had first done this, I had to wade through countless dragon souls, each trying to claim my body for their own. It took me two day to once again reign them into submission. With each time, I went into myself I befriended each one. They soon became some of my advisors. They have become a part of my soul sharing their power and memories with me. The inside of my mind is a replica of my childhood home on the plains of Whiterun. This is the seat of my soul. There is a cabin but I do not go in. Inside their lives my regrets and memories I do not wish to relive. In the air, every dragon I have ever fought usually soar. Alduin is not among them, he is chained deep within a special prison I have constructed him. But now there are no dragons above me. Even here I cannot escape the green tint. The sky is ripped open as well. Then I hear it a snarl. My eyes lock onto a wolf in the distance. It is pitch black with red eyes. It is not my own beast, I once had the power of the wolf. Long ago as a member of the Companions I joined my brothers and sisters in the way of the wolf. But my dragon blood soon expelled the foreign blood, thus cutting my connection to my beast. The wolf again snarls his white teeth sharp, glinting in the eerie light.  
I close my eyes, nothing threatens me in this place. This is where I can be true self. I open my eyes again, this time they are slits like a dragon. Scales litter my face, my teeth elongated into fangs. My scales are a brilliant white with a golden sheen. I feel a slight pressure on my back, then a weight. The wolf is still baring its fangs at me, its fur standing on end in a threatening stance. In response, I let my wings flare, screaming a shout into the air.  
“Yol Toor Shul.” A stream of fire pours from my lips lighting up the sky even further. The wolf back down at my display. “Leave. You are not welcome here.”  
The wolf turns tail and dissipates into green wisps. He is not gone I know this. I have a feeling that one day I shall need to battle him for control. For now, he will be silent and hide in the shadows. I breath out a breath I had not known I was keeping. My visage returns to normal.  
I open my eyes in the real world. My meditation had gone on longer than excepted, the east is turning a pale pink with the rising of the sun. I need to get back before people know I was gone. I start to sprint back to Haven; a whimper catches my attention. There is a small snowbank huddles a small puppy. It looks like no dog I had ever seen. I creep to it not wanting to scare it. I hold out my hand for it to smell. It gives a small growl at my approach, but returns to whimpering from the cold.  
“Hush little one. I will not hurt you.” I speak in soothing tones. It limps to me nearly frozen from the cold. I scoop it up, feeling it cuddle into me seeking warmth. I restart my return with renewed speed, if I do not get this puppy out of the cold it will die. As I near Haven I can here voice. ‘Damn.’ I am too late in returning unnoticed. I quickly change into my iron armor this time adding a cloak to shield the puppy from prying and further cold.  
I slow my pace to a walk as to seem I am coming back from a walk and have been gone but a short time. I hear the voices coming closer. I can pick out a few thigs they are saying.  
“She can’t have wandered far.”  
“We must find her.”  
Things of that nature, seems that the population is searching for me. Oops. I’ll likely get an earful from Cassandra later, but no matter. I arrive at the abandoned cabin t see Commander Cullen looking around trying to find me. He sees me then rushes to my side. His arms extend as if to grab me by the shoulders to shake me or embrace me. I’m betting on the former.  
“Where have you been, Cassandra is furious. We thought you had been lost in the mountains.” His eyes wild. ‘Oh my, is that a hint of concern I sense in his voice.’ I open my mouth to say a witty retort, but a slight movement under my cloak reminds me of the precious cargo I bear.  
“As much as I would love to listen to your lecture Commander I must get back to Haven.” The puppy is now squirming under the cloak. Cullen is taken aback by my comment but doesn’t move from my path. He replies.  
“You disappear from Haven and now you are in a hurry to return. Why….” His trailing off is becoming a common occurrence only this time it isn’t from him staring at my chest but rather the puppy has pooped it head out from under my cloak, to inspect the new voice. Cullen’s eyes widen is shock and surprise. “Where did you find a Mabari?”  
“Is that what this little one is? Well now I know. I found this little one on my walk, huddled into a snow bank.” My lie about my whereabouts is flawless. All the rest is truth. Now Cullen’s hands go to reach for the pup. His gloved fingers brush the pup’s tiny ears, trailing down to his muzzle. “Commander I apologize, but this puppy needs warmth and food. I can listen to your prepared lecture later.”  
Cullen retracts his hand and nods. He leads the way back to Haven never leaving my side. We return to Haven, Cassandra tries to stop me to lecture me as well. We walk quickly past before she can start. The fire in my cabin has long died out. Cullen takes the initiative to light it for me. The logs catch but the flames are not large enough to fill the room. I sit near the fire rubbing the puppy, brining warmth back to its body. I motion for Cullen to join me, he takes the offer but sits a good three feet from me.  
I take my first good look at the puppy, it has a tan coat with blackmarking. Almost the entirety of its face is black, it’s front right paw also black. The puppy has fallen asleep in my lap, I can’t keep calling the pup it, so I discreetly check the gender, male. I stand with the puppy, Cullen looks up, worry fills his eyes. I place the pup in his lap for safe keeping, his hands curl protective around his body. I have a spare blanket on my bed that will do for the pup. I return to the fireplace, folding the blanket, placing onto the ground between Cullen and I. Cullen places the pup onto the blanket careful not to wake him. We don’t speak for a few minutes, both not knowing what to say. I finally break the silence.  
“You have been avoiding me Commander. Why?” His hands stop their petting of the puppy. It could be the firelight but there is a small tint upon his cheeks.  
“Because I was embarrassed by my conduct the other day. To be caught staring at the chest of The Herald of Andraste.” He looks down in shame and embarrassment. I feel bad for him for teasing him now.  
“Commander, I forgive you. I apologize for teasing you about it. If we are to be working together for the foreseeable future we must be able to hold a conversation.” He lifts his head and nods. “Now you said that this is a what again?”  
“A Mabari they are war dogs bred and found in Fereldan. I’m surprised you found one in the snow, they are prized animals. They are loyal to the end. I have wanted one since I was a boy. “He gives a small smile thinking about his childhood, eyes softly gazing upon the sleeping Mabari.  
“We do not have Mabari in my homeland. Would you help me raise this one?” His eyes sparkle with excitement yet his face remains stoic.  
“Of course, my lady.”  
“Gwendolyn, please.” I extend my hand in greeting, he takes it with a nod.  
“I must ask my- Gwendolyn, why were you out walking in the early morning.” Never taking his eyes from mine.  
“The snow reminds me of home.” I reply with full honesty.  
“Where is home?”  
“Home is a land far from here. It is a land of endless ice and snow, where the stars shine with unequal splendor. I missed it.” He looks confused.  
“I can understand that, I miss my home as well. I have not seen my family in many years.” His eyes have a far-off look, remembering home. “I was thirteen when I left home to become a Templar, and eighteen when I took my vows.”  
“I was young when I left home as well, I too have not been to my childhood home for many years.” My reason is different though. I do not chase that memory, it leads to a dark place.  
We now sit in comfortable silence, a knock on the door brings us out of that state. At the door is Casandra looking even more furious.  
“I hope you had a good reason for leaving Haven.” Her voice stern like a scolding mother. Before she can continue her tirade, Cullen speaks up in defense.  
“She had gotten up early for a walk and heard something in the woods.” To back up his claim he produced the Mabari puppy. Cassandra does not speak again yet is still a bit cross. She leaves telling us both that we are needed in the war-room straight away, closing the door behind her.  
“Thank you for defending me Cullen.” He didn’t have to but he did anyway. I give a soft smile of gratitude. He blushes, rubbing his hand over the back of his head, the other still cradling the Mabari. He clears his throat.  
“We should head to the War-room before Cassandra comes back.” He transfers the puppy to my hands and leaves with me following at his heels.  
Leliana helps me fit the Mabari with a collar from the smith. I decide to name him Talos, it is a fitting name for a war dog. Night has fallen leaving me exhausted. The endless rounds of politics leave me in need of a drink. Luckily Haven has a tavern, I remember Varric telling me to join him for a drink one day.  
I open the door assaulted by familiar smells of ale mixed with meat. The tavern is small and crowded. I see Varric already at the counter with a mug. I slide next to him placing Talos on my lap so he can’t get into trouble.  
“Herald glad you could join us!” He beams. He orders me a drink. It is ale, piss poor quality but hey its alcohol. Varric looks at Talos and laughs. “So, it’s true you did find a Mabari in the woods. That’s priceless.”  
Varric fills the night with stories of his time in Kirkwall and hid adventures with Champion. He is an excellent story teller. When he speaks, everyone stops to listen, the crowd enraptured by his words. I feel the stress of the last few days ease as it grows later and later. Talos is snoring on my lap. Many of the other patrons are nearly falling over drunk. Only Varric and I are still coherent, not for lack of trying on Varric’s part. At least on good thing came from me getting in a drinking contest with Sanguine, it takes a lot to get me truly sloshed. Varric turns to me.  
“I have never meet a human who can keep pace with a dwarf in terms of drinking.” I laugh, truly laugh.  
“Let’s just say I have had a lot of practice.” I take another drink of the terrible ale. I have lost count of the number.  
“I meant to ask you Herald. Where are you from, really, no bull shitting me.” His face is serious. I take a second sip, readying myself for this conversation. I know Varric is a man who can keep secrets. I place my mug back onto the counter and sigh. There are no other patrons still around to hear us. They have all left to sleep of the drink, even the bartender is gone.  
“I come from across the see, from a land where snow and ice fall year-round. A place where many creatures and races dwell. But no Dwemer dwell there.” His eyes widen at my revelation.  
“Across the sea, you are shitting me. What is a Dwemer?”  
“I am not lying Varric. My homeland is called Tamriel or Skyrim, it is part of a larger continent called Nirn. A Dwemer is my lands name for a dwarf.” I lift my mug for a drink letting my words settle around him. Varric has to put his mug down, placing a hand on his hear trying to comprehend my words.  
“So, you are telling me you are from another continent where there are no Dwarves. Damn Herald that is one big secret. You haven’t told anyone else?” I shake my head no. “You can count on me keeping your secret, Leliana may find out eventually, she is a spy.”  
“Thank you Varric. Let me handle Leliana.” I stand to leave lifting a sleeping Talos with me. “Goodnight Varric.”  
“Goodnight Herald.” He responds.  
The night is still as always. From the shadows, I feel a presence. I scan all around searching for it, my eyes finally alight upon, Solas.  
“A little late to be outside Solas.” I say trying to keep the tone light despite his lurking.  
“I could say the same to you Herald.” He steps from the shadows hands behind his back. “But from the direction you have traveled from I can guess you were drinking with Varric in the Tavern.”  
“I was indeed, I am now headed back to my cabin to get some rest. Good night Solas.” I leave before he can return the sentiment. I get an odd feeling with my back turned to him, like some predator is watching me. I shake it off.

Wisdom greets me in my dreams, telling me of how the entire Fade is in an uproar about the Breach. It tells me of the spirits and demons clamoring for a chance to enter the real world. I ask him to spread the word to spirits, not to exit the Fade through the rifts. Wisdom agrees but makes no promises. I spend the rest of my dream learning about different spirits from Wisdom, also learning about the Hinterlands I face tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always been a bit miffed about there being no Mabari quest in Inquisition except for Trespasser. So I gave the Dragonborn a Mabari. Also slow build up with Cullen romance, please be patient. Follows the game in terms of romance pace.


	7. Hinterlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn travels to the Hinterlands to find Mother Giselle.

The Hinterlands remind me of The Rift. It is rather temperate with great mountains and forests. All around I see evidence of the war. We pass many refugees searching for safety. A few didn’t make it. Many houses we pace are either burning or completely ash. Any house that isn’t one of the two is complete abandoned, its contents scavenged. There once was a time that destruction like this would have made me flinch but after years of war it now only hardens my resolve to end this conflict.   
We encountered a few mages and Templars fighting in a glen. The Mages fought with desperation that a corned animal might fight with. The Templars crashed upon them without mercy. Hatred seethed from their pores. We tried to stop them but it was useless, they turned on us forcing our hand. Needless death, I wish I understood their reasons but alas I know very little behind the conflict. All I do know is that before the war mages were heavily regulated, the Templars were essentially their jailers.   
Our party stopped near the outskirts of the Crossroads. I met a woman named Scout Harding.  
“Herald of Andraste. I’ve heard the stories. Everyone has, we know what you did at the Breach, Inquisition Scout Harding at your service. All of us here will do whatever we can to help.” Her voice is light but holds a tone of professionalism. She is a lovely dwarf woman with brown hair tied back, with soft grey eyes.  
“Harding huh. Ever been to Kirkwall?” Varric’s voice cuts it with a hint of mirth. Is lips are curled in the edges, ghosting a smile. Scout Harding replies.  
“No can’t say that I have. Why?” She does not know what to make of the question.  
“You’d be Harding in a… No never mind.” Varric’s attempt at a pun fails before it began. From the sound of the beginning it was to be a dirty one. I shoot him glance to say ‘Really?’ Cassandra makes a disgusted noise. I have found those to be quite frequent in their encounters with each other. Cassandra doesn’t approve of Varric’s humor. I on the other hand find him hilarious. The man can certainly tell a dirty joke, we have spent hours beside the campfire going back and forth with puns and dirty jokes.   
“Pleased to meet you scout Harding. I apologies for the odd behavior of my companions.” I say to her with a smile. She returns the smile; the smile drops nearly instantaneously.  
“We should get to business; the situation is pretty dire. We came to secure horses from Redcliff’s old housemaster.” Her voice wavers at the next part. “I grew up here, everyone always said that Master Dennett’s horses were the strongest and fastest this side of the Frostbacks. But With the mage templar fighting only getting work we haven’t been able to get through to his farm. Maker only know if they are still alive. Mother Giselle is helping refugees at the Crossroads, unfortunately reports say that the way is spreading there too. Our men are doing what they can to protect the people, but they can’t hold out much longer.”   
I stop her before she can finish.   
“Thank you scout Harding I shall go immediately.” I start to sprit in the general direction of the Crossroads. I have always had a keen sense of where I need to be going. I come to a complete halt when I hear sounds of fighting in the next clearing. It is more mages and Templars. Bodies lay scattered throughout, they had been fighting some time. I dash in battle ax raised. The mages’ spells are easy to dodge, they use only the basic elements. They are also constricted by their staffs. The Templars prove more of a challenge, they are highly trained soldiers. Their armor is thicker that the mages, they fight with singular focus. My breath is coming in puffs at the end, I loot their bodies, finding a simple ring with an inscription of love on it. Some gold along with other odds and ends. My foot nudges a small blue vial. Curious I pick it up to inspect. The vial is filled with a blue white liquid. It gives off a familiar feeling, I uncork it. The smell that comes forth is vile, as if trying to ensnare you. I shove the cork back in about ready to heave my breakfast unto the forest floor. With a shaking voice, I ask.  
“What is this?” Holding up the vial for all to see. They all give me odd looks. Casandra speaks first.  
“Have you never encountered lyrium before?” Lyrium, I know that word, it was that red taint in the temple. I thought it was red not blue. I shake my head no. “It is what gives Templars their powers and it restores mages mana.”  
That last part strikes me as very odd. Do the mages of this land not naturally replenish their mana? Skyrim has magika potions but they don’t smell like that. I must learn more about this land’s magic.   
“What exactly is it made from? Is it a flower? A bug? What?” I ask stilling holding the vial away from me. Varric speaks this time.  
“Technically it’s a rock. It is found deep underground. Dwarves of Orzammar mine it and refine it into a liquid. That liquid in turn makes the potion you now hold.”   
“You drink a glowing rock?” I say that as if any ingredients of my magika potions are any less odd. but there is a big difference between a mushroom and a liquified rock. They look at me like I’m the weird one for not knowing what this stuff is. I’ll take the damn mushrooms over rocks any day. Hell, I’ll even wait the time it takes for my magika to regenerate. In hindsight that not a super long time. The more one practices with magika the faster the regeneration rate goes up. I hand it to Solas due to the fact he is a mage. “Here Solas, you may have use for this.”  
Solas takes the lyrium with a nod of gratitude. I casually brush my hand of onto my armor not wanting any of that stuff on me, ever. I haven’t seen many ingredients familiar to me, but Haven is in the mountains. Maybe the Hinterlands will have somethings I can use.  
We continue until reaching the Crossroads, just as the reports read mages and Templars were fighting. I saw innocent civilians caught in the crossfire. The mages and Templars were so blinded by their hatred for each other they could not see that their actions were hurting others. I couldn’t use any magic but I could discreetly use a shout. I had to get them away from the center. Under my breath, I whispered.  
“Faas.” It had its indented effect, the larger groups saw us and started to run. As the shout was not used to its fullest they only ran till just outside the Crossroads. Now we can fight. I charge for the nearest mage. He brings his staff down on the ground, frost spreading in a radius. He thinks this will protect him from me, wrong. I swing my ax in a horizontal swipe shattering the deadly spikes of ice. He tries to bring up a barrier but it is too late. I bury the pommel of my ax into his chest, blood sprays from the exit wound in his back. Blood again sprays as I retract the pommel from his now lifeless body.   
I turn my sight on a Templar with a tower shield. My hands tighten around the handle, again sprinting. While I am charging Solas is charging fireballs left and right providing cover for Cassandra. Varric does the same with Bianca. Cassandra is focusing on a group of two Templars. As I reach my target he brings up the shield in defense. My first strike is blocked, I change tactics and circle around him to flank. It works, I catch him in the side. He drops to his knees at the blow, lashing out blindly with his sword, nicking me in the arm. It cuts through my bracers allowing bleed to flow freely. It stings but not enough to distract me. He again tries to block with his shield but he is too weak at this point to deflect my strike. My ax causes his shield to go flying away from him. I make the last blow quick and to the throat.   
The sound of fighting has died down. The last of the mages have fled into the mountains. I look at my party trying to find any injuries. Solas is coated in sweat leaning on his staff. Varric’s arms have the barest amount of trembling. Cassandra looks fine, but I know better. I ask if she is fine.  
“I will have some bruises tomorrow but nothing I can’t handle.” Her armor did its job. Solas and Varric are just out of breath. “Herald you are bleeding.”  
“Oh, I had forgotten. It’s just a scratch.” They hand me a red potion, health most likely. I take a sip, nearly gagging. It works the blood has all but stopped. I’ll later cast a healing spell on it just to be sure. Most of the time in battle I cast a fast healing spell on me and sustain it for the duration, all but the most serious of injuries are gone by the end of it. I learned the art of handless casting in Cyrodiil. Not here though, for now must continue to conceal my magic abilities.   
The refugees slowly come out from hiding, thanking the Inquisition for its help. We ask for them to point us in the direction mother Giselle. We find her tending a wounded soldier, trying to get him to accept healing.  
“Mother Giselle?” She turns from the soldier at my question. “We are with the.”  
“I know who you are Herald of Andraste. I have been waiting for you.” Her accent is exotic, almost Cyrodiilic.   
“Why did you send for us?” She motions for us to walk while she explains.  
“I wanted to advise you in going to Val Royeaux to speak with the Chantry there. The do not know what to make of you and will spread rumors about your organization. Go there and show them that you are not the monster they claim you to be.” The is much wisdom in her words. “In the meantime, I will go to Haven and help the Inquisition in any way that I can.”  
“Thank you, Reverend Mother. Your help and advice is much welcome.” I slightly bow out of respect when she walks away from the conversation.

We return to camp, I ask for a raven to send to Haven. I write to Leliana about what Mother Giselle has proposed. Asking her what our next move will be. I receive a reply at first light. Leliana writes that we need to show that the Inquisition is a source of good in the world. She advises to help stabilize the Hinterlands, to gain influence. I send a letter of thanks, inquiring about the condition of Talos. I had left him with Commander Cullen for safe keeping as he is too young to travel. I gather my party to go search for master Dennett.   
Along the way, I seal more and more rifts. I find a woman who is grieving for her husband, he was killed by Templars thinking he was a mage. She grieves most that they took his wedding band. I remember the ring I took off the body of a Templar, she gasps with joy at its return. We find Dennett’s farm locked tight. We manage to convince them to let us in to talk. Dennett says that he will go with us if we stabilize the area surrounding the farm. His wife gives us a list of requirements. We set up camp on the shore of a nearby lake. I again raven Leliana with the list. The sun is setting as the raven flies back to Haven.  
Secunda and Masser oar out tonight and the sky is less green. I again try to identify the constellations.  
“That one is called Judex.” Solas’ voice startles me from my gazing. “The Chantry calls it “The Sword of Mercy. I am sorry if I startled you.”  
“It is alright Solas. Thank you for telling me its name. My home has different names from the stars and maybe the moons too.” He comes closer seeking answers. “My home is far from here.”  
“I too understand what is like to be stranger in this land. Tell me about the names of your stars, in exchange I shall tell you about mine.”   
“Thank you Solas. We have thirteen main constellations with many secondary ones, those I do not know the names to. The three main ones are the Thief, the Warrior and the Mage. Each main constellation has a stone and sign that correspond with it. These ancient stones give blessings to their bearers.” He is now more intrigued at my mention of the Mage.  
“And which do you bear?” I have to think for a few seconds, it has been many years since I changed my sign. I remember now.  
“The Warrior. It infers a blessing upon combat skill, I needed it for my job.”   
“Interesting. What was your job before you came here?” I answer with full truth.  
“I was a warrior and adventurer.”   
We spend the rest of the evening and well into the night taking about the stars. I learn that the moons are called Luna and Satina. I tell him how we call them Secunda and Masser saying which is which. He asks many questions about my land, I answer with enough truth and ambiguity to both gain trust and keep secrets. He senses my tactics but does not pry too deep as he does the same at a few questions. I ask him about the Fade. He gladly answers with enthusiasm only someone who has seen something in it’s true beauty can have. When the topic turns to mages I lie, and say that there are very few mages in my homeland and that I know none of them well enough to know how their magic works.   
The moons are at their zenith when our conversation dies out prompting us to retire to our tents. As he turns from me I swear I could hear the howling of wolves in the distance. Wisdom does not visit me in my dreams, but rather I walk the woods of the Rift. Seeing this familiar place eases my weary mind.   
Liliana’s raven is waiting for me when I wake up. She replies that the Inquisition forces will depart to fulfill the list sent. She also informs me that Talos is doing well and that Commander Cullen dotes on the pup. We have much work ahead of us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that their are only thirteen constellations in Skyrim but I am using the skill constellations as secondary constellations. Like in the real world there are different stars visible in different parts of the world.


	8. Blackwall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn meets Warden Blackwall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.

It takes a month for everything to be finished in the Hinterlands. In total, there are five camps scattered around the Hinterlands. Each is responsible for overseeing that area. I spent a week in each camp, roughly, to stabilize the area. I closed many rifts, gathering samples from the fallen demons. Leliana had written in one of her daily reports that a mage in Haven wanted the samples to learn more about the demons. I collected them all, placing them in a special box for transport later. One of the biggest projects was building a watchtower at Redcliff Farms. The men were having trouble lifting a massive tree, they were very surprised when I joined them. I truly am stronger than most people.   
We ran out a den of wolves under the control of a terror demon. Solas has been identifying each one we encounter for later references. I saw him give a small smile when we freed the wolves. Deep in the woods we found a grand villa. The villa was occupied by a band of mercenaries. We made quick work of them.   
We encountered some more red lyrium in a cave. Varric was visibly uncomfortable. I shattered it crushing the shards into powder, then sealed the cave. Varric told me that night about how he and his brother found an idol made of it in the Deep Roads. He said how it caused his brother to go insane and Knight Captain Meredith to be transformed into a monster. I promised him right there that any red lyrium we came across I would personally destroy. He was thankful, we spent the rest of that night exchanging stories. He told me about this lands dwarf, I confided in him what little I knew of mine. It was nice to share stories and knowledge with.   
Solas still taught me about this land, especially the folk lore of it. He mainly focused on the elvish stories. He told me about the Evanuris, the elven Pantheon. I learned there were two types of elves. The first were city dwellers who lived in cramped slums called alienage. The other were called the Dalish, travelling clans of elves, they sounded very like traditional Bosomer. One morning he came to me and told of an artifact in the Hinterlands that could reinforce the Veil. I agreed. We delved deep into ancient Elven ruins. I came across an odd torch on the wall. Solas walked over and lit it with magic. The flame that ignited was green. Solas called it Veilfire, that only mages could light it but anyone could hold it.   
It is Cassandra who tells me the history and lore of the other races. She tells me that they do not know what lies beyond the Armanthine Sea. She says that legend has humans came from a land called the Aramanth. They know nothing of that land, all attempts at colonization have failed with lone survivors returning mad. Curious of all she told me of a giant species with grey skin and horns. I have seen many grey skinned people before but horns are new. She describes them as a warlike race with an odd, totalitarian type religion run government call the Qun. She calls this group the Qunari. She only once questioned why I did not have any knowledge of this. I said that my people told it differently and that I enjoy learning stories and histories from other cultures.   
It is halfway through the month before I can slip away in the night. Lucien answers my call with many letters. Each bear good news along with confirmation of my orders. All of them are fascinated by what has transpired.   
Finally, all the requirements are finished and the area stabilized. Master Dennett agrees to join the Inquisition as Horse master. I haven’t been able to ride Shadowmere since coming here and I miss him. I did over hear Dennett talking about a bog unicorn, perhaps I may be able to ride him once again. While in the Hinterlands I noticed that my iron armor got quite a few stares. While the armor is not that extravagant it does stand out. If one is to survive one must assimilate.   
The morning of our return trip we receive an urgent message from Leliana telling us not to leave yet. She writes that reports from that area have confirmed there is a Grey Warden in the area. I covertly ask Varric what a Grey Warden is, he obliges that they are trained warriors for specific purpose. He doesn’t elaborate what that purpose is.   
We meet this warden at a cabin on the shore of a lake. A burly man with a black beard is training farmers how to handle a sword and shield. He is in the middle of a speech when I interrupt.  
“Warden Blackwall?” He whips around at his name. He glares at me with suspicion. He marches over to me, weapon still drawn.  
“How do you know my name.” His voice is gruff. “Who sent.”  
Before he can finish the sentence and arrow comes screaming at him, he narrowly raises his shield before it hits him. A group of bandits comes from behind the trees yelling as the run. He looks at them then back at me still behind the shield.  
“We are dealing with these idiots first.”   
“Gladly.” Though I am part of the Thieves Guild I hate bandits. True thieves don’t kill or harm the innocent. I have also put in place that no refugees are poor people are to be robbed. I have been having problems with bandits all month, a little payback is due. I lift my ax ready to fight, Cassandra Varric and Solas do the same. Blackwall barks at the farmers trembling behind their shields.  
“Conscripts here they come.” He charges forward leaving them still frightened. Not wanting to be out done I join him in the charge. His sword flashes in the sun, a deadly arc catching the light. The battle is short lived, the bandits lay dead around us. Blackwall walks to where I am cleaning my ax blade. He shoves the tip of his sword into the ground making it stand straight. He motions to the bandits.  
“Sorry bastards.” He turns to the still alive conscripts. They seem less afraid now. “Good work conscripts. Thieves are made not born, take back what they stole. Go back to your families, you saved yourselves.”  
The conscripts leave quickly hurrying to get home. With the conscripts gone Blackwall turns to me again.  
“You’re no farmer. Why do you know my name?” I motion for the rest of my party to give us a little space.  
“We are with the Inquisition, investigating a Grey Warden sighted in this area. We are seeing if their disappearance has anything to do with the murder of the Divine.” I can see that he flinches ever so slightly at the mention of other Grey Wardens. He starts to pace agitated at my statement, near accusation.  
“Maker’s balls. The Wardens and the Divine, no you’re asking so you don’t really know.” He tries to stare me down. I don’t back down. He relents still trying to appear stoic. “First off I didn’t know they had disappeared. But we do that right. No more Blight, job done. Wardens are the first thing forgotten. But one thing I’ll tell you, no Warden killed the Divine. Our purpose isn’t political.”  
“I apologize, I was not accusing the Wardens. We are merely investigation possibilities.” His agitation settles at my apologies. The something comes to mind. “If all the other Grey Wardens have gone missing, why haven’t you?”  
“My job is to travel alone recruiting. They may have returned to Weishaupt in the Anderfells. I have received no messages. I truly don’t know why they would disappear all at once.”  
“Thank you Warden Blackwall.” I start walking away when I hear him call out.  
“Inquisition. Agent did you say. Hold a moment.” I stop without turning to listen. “The Divine is dead and the sky is torn. Events like these, thinking that we are absent is almost as bad as thinking that we are involved.”  
He has my attention now. I face him signaling him to continue.  
“If you are going to try and put things right maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me. I will do my best to help the Inquisition.”  
I give a broad smile, clapping my hand upon his shoulder.  
“Welcome to the Inquisition Warden Blackwall.”


	9. The Threat Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn learns what happened to the dragons and deals with politics.

It feels good to sleep in a real bed again. I had forgotten how much bed rolls hurt my back. Ambassador Josephine is waiting at the gate of Haven for us, ready to hear of debriefing. We convince her that we need rest after traveling. I dismount and head for my cabin. I hear a happy bark in the distance and an exasperated voice.  
“No don’t run away from me.” Talos comes barreling towards me. He is just a tad bigger than he was when I left. He still has that awkward run. He jumps into my arms liking my face, happy to see me.  
“I’m happy to see you too Talos.” He continues to lick my face yipping away. He is heavy for a dog his size. I see Cullen running to us looking frazzled. He sees me. He tries to straighten his look, not wanting to show that he is having a hard time handling a dog. “It is good to see you too Cullen. Thank you for watching Talos. I hope he wasn’t too much of a handful.”  
“No not at all my lady Herald.” He smiles making me smile.  
“It’s Gwendolyn, Cullen, Herald is too formal.” He blushes at that. He gives me a small smile in the corner of his mouth near the scare that I sear makes my legs go a little weak.  
“I am glad you are back safely Gwendolyn, the reports you sent were encouraging.”  
“Yes, now we get to deal with politics. I barely managed to escape before Josephine called us to a meeting. I can only assume Leliana wants a full detailed report by morning. For no though I am going to content myself with a hot bath and some decent food. Goodnight Cullen.” I walk away with Talos in my arms. I cut the conversation off quickly as I did not want Cullen to see me blush. Behind me I hear.  
“Goodnight Gwendolyn.” And even softer. “Sweet dreams.”

My dreams are anything but sweet. Wisdom does not greet me this night, but the visage of Alduin. From his mouth pours lava. He is merely a rage demon in disguise. I spend the night battling it. Morning is a sweet relief. But it leaves me with questions about this lands dragon. If it had been the real Alduin he would have goaded me. This imitation could only roar.  
Cassandra had mentioned in the history lessons that Nevarines were famed dragon hunters. I will start there. I exit my cabin with Talos close at my heels.

I find Cassandra outside Haven practicing her moves on practice dummy. She hacks at it with all her might.  
“I feel sorry for whomever that dummy is supposed to represent.” She starts at my voice, not hearing my approach. She gives a sad look.  
“Did I do the right thing? What we have created could destroy everything I have revered in life. One day they may write me as a mad woman and a traitor.” She sighs. “They may be right.” I contemplate her words, knowing how she feels. I place my hand on her shoulder to give comfort.  
“Time is a fickle thing and history is written by those who survive. They may one day call you those things. But what, altered is that during your lifetime you did all you could to make things right. It is what you do with your time that shapes your legacy.” She gives me smile. Talos who had been sitting in the snow this entire time has grown bored and runs off to find something to do.  
“I misjudged you before, but seeing you fight in the Hinterlands to restore order made me rethink that. Tell me do you believe in the Maker?” I drop my hand looking down, not wanting to answer. I know I must.  
“I believe in a maker, it just may not be your Maker.” She starts to give me a look. I interrupt before she can make assumptions. “There is no Chantry where I come from. But I do believe I was divinely chosen.” She looks satisfied with my answer. She returns to hitting the dummy. “Cassandra, I came to find you to ask you something.”  
“What is your question?”  
“What happened to the dragons?” She stiffens at the word. Halting he crusade against the poor dummy. “I know you said that there once were some and that your family hunted them. Are they all gone?”  
“Many of them have been hunted into extinction with only a few remaining to this day. I myself have only ever slain one. It was in my youth, I have not seen one since. The Tevinter worshipped them as gods claiming that their bodies were vessels of the gods.” I am saddened to hear that very few of my kin survive in this land. The Tevinter sound like the old Nords before they rebelled against the dragons. They may have a connection to the dragon priests.  
“Thank you, Cassandra.”  
“You are welcome.”

I can’t avoid Josephine forever. I head to the chantry. Josephine’s office is a dark room in the back of the chantry building. She is auguring with a man as I enter. Neither notice me. The man is wearing an odd mask that doubles as a hat, if the number of ruffles on the top are anything to go by. He speaks with a similar accent as Mother Gisselle. I tune into the conversation.  
“Lady Montyliet. You cannot expect me to allow you to continue residing here without payment. This is my land.” So that is the problem, another noble worried about not getting his cut. Josephine’s soft voice flits through the air.  
“Ser you cannot turn these people out into the cold.” The noble is having none of it. “Where will the people go?”  
“Not my problem ambassador.” I take this pause to speak up drawing the gaze of both parties.  
“Actually, it is your problem. Haven is growing due to the Inquisition. More and more merchants are arriving by the day. With them comes more people and more money. People will not want to come to Haven should word spread that you turn them away. Instead I suggest that you charge vendors a fee for seeing their goods here, thereby making a profit and showing generosity.” The noble is taken aback at my suggestion but then realizes the gravity of my words.  
“I suppose I could allow you to stay for now.” He takes his leave of us taking his perfumed ego with him. Josephine returns to her desk giving a sigh of relief. I cross to the desk.  
“Does he actually own this land?”  
“No, his wife does.” Josephine puts her head in her hands. She looks utterly worn, being a political advisor is hard. She takes a few moments to compose herself. “I must thank you for your help in that negotiation. I must admit it surprised me to find that you have expertise with politics.”  
“Yes, unfortunately it was inescapable for me. While I have not encountered politics such as these before the problems and personalities behind them are no different.” I state taking a seat in front of Josephine’s desk. “I have to ask ambassador, why did that man have a mask on? Is he horribly disfigured or does he wish to look like a bird?”  
At my joke, Josephine give a sharp laugh before composing herself. “Not at all my lady, that is simply the fashion of Orlais. Their politics are called the grand game, the nobles take it even farther by concealing their faces so their opponents never know their expressions, or so I am told.” She ponders for a second. “Though I can see how one might misinterpret that fashion.”  
“Speaking of Orlesian politics, is it possible for the Inquisition to travel the capital?” I inquire folding one knee over the other while doing so. Josephine looks taken aback at the idea. But then she starts to think over the proposal.

“Where did you get this idea?”  
“Mother Giselle suggested that we go there to show that we are not what the Chantry makes us out to be.” Josephine nods contemplating thaw ramifications of this plan. After a minute or two of silence she speaks in a steady tone.  
“We would need to increase our political standing and influence before going there. But it is possible, I would need to speak with the rest of the council before a decision is made.” She turns back to her papers no doubt planning the path. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention Lady Herald.”  
“Gwendolyn please.” She looks up.  
“Thank you, Gwendolyn.”

 

The snowy air whipped my hair around my face. I usually style it in braids of my people but today I left it down. My hair was once blonde like most Nords but my trials of life have caused it to turn a lighter shade nearly white, awakened dragon blood gave it red tones to it creating a unique color almost like flames.

I hear sword clashing outside Haven in the practice field. Cullen must be training the recruits. Talos must be with him as I have not seen him in a while. I approach the field I can see a dozen pairs of recruits trying to defend themselves. Talos is sitting at Cullen’s feet watching the proceedings. After a recruit fails to properly use his shield Cullen barks out criticism.  
“That is a shield in your hands block with it. If that were a real sword you would be dead.” The recruit looks thoroughly chastised. Cullen sighs turning to a waiting currier. He notices me while still writing on the parchment that had been handed to him. “I apologize for my outburst.”  
“Do not apologize Cullen. These recruits need to learn that in battle you must use everything that you have to stay alive. Those are hard lessons to learn. Not learning them can result in death or scars.” I lean down to pat Talos. I look out past the field over the frozen lake. “the life of a soldier is not an easy one.”  
He turns at my statement. “Words from experience?” I return my gaze to him.  
“For many years. It was the that was chosen for me, no matter where I go in life it follows me.” I can see in his eyes understanding, also hurt. “You were once a Templar, I am afraid I do not fully know what that entailed.”  
“Templars are the Chantry’s army, the way they enforce their laws, also we guard the mages.” At the mention of mages his eyes go cold and hard. It is a look I saw in many of my kinsmen when talking about the Aldmeri Dominion. “I was stationed in Kirkwall when a rebel mage destroyed the chantry there.”  
“It is alright Cullen you do not have to speak of it.” His eyes that had drifted to a far-off place return at my calm tone. “I understand the scars we bear can still hurt long after. Come let us speak of something else. Tell me of your family.”

The rest of the afternoon passes in idle conversation between us. The sun sets forcing us to move indoors to continue the conversation. We end up at the tavern taking seats next to Varric in the corner. The night is filled with stories and laughter. As the night progresses I can see some of Cullen’s tensions and stress melt away. It nears the wee hours when we decide it is time to retire. Talos had fallen asleep in Cullen’s lap, not wanting to wake the pup Cullen takes Talos with him to his tent.  
Tomorrow is the council meeting with all the advisors about Val Royeaux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long it has been a hectic month. I shall try to get chapters up more regularly from now on.


	10. Val Rouyaux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn goes to the gilded city.

Val Royeaux was unlike anything I had ever seen. The only word I have to describe it is gilded.

Josephine insisted that I wear the armor that had been specially requisitioned for me. The armor was beautiful though nothing I would ever wear into battle. The only parts of my body covered in something other than cloth were my shoulders, chest, forearms and feet. It had a silver sheen reminding me of polished lunar steel. While putting it on Cassandra had called it heavy Silverite armor. Don’t know why it’s called that, it was about as “heavy” as Elven Armor. When we return to Haven I shall make some adjustments. 

Josephine had also demanded I bathe before going in front of the Chantry clerics in the morning. Fine by me, it had been too long. I vehemently declined any offer of a chamber maid to help. I am not ashamed of my body but as a Nord principle demands I do things myself. Even after I became a ruler I did everything myself that I could. There is also something sacred about privacy, especially when in the military. I bathed with my troops on occasion so I hold no qualms about being naked in public.  
Funny story. In my earlier years as Emperor someone had sent an assassin after me. The perpetrator was an ambassador. The assassin snuck in while I had been bathing, unfortunately that assassin did not know I liked to meditate after baths, in the nude. The assassin made it two steps away from me before I rendered him unconscious with a paralysis potion. This assassin was obviously not Dark Brotherhood. If he had been he would have greeted me as was custom. I knew exactly who had sent them. I tied a cloth around my waste for a covering but did not bother to cover my breasts. My hair was long enough to do that. The council was meeting at that time, I decided to remind them who I was. I dragged the assassin of my room by the arm not caring if I dislocated it. The person had been hired to kill me, that made them fair game. With a mighty Fus I brought down the council room doors in naught but a tiny towel and my hair giving me modesty. I marched to the ambassador dropping the assassin in their lap with a smirk and a ‘you have to do better than that’ look. The entire council went red at my lack of coverings, the ambassador went red as well, could not tell if it was because the other councilors reasons or shame. I did not hear the end of that incident for nearly four months.  
So no I don’t have shame in that department. 

We walked down the bridge leading into the city center. A pair of women in poufy dresses and gilded masks saw us. They gave twin gasps of shock bordering on fear. So much for a quite entrance.

“I think they know who we are. Varric quipped from my right. I had brought everyone with me. Cassandra trailed just a few feet behind. Wearing armor with the inquisition symbol emblazoned on the chest piece. Solas was to my right, try as Josephine might she could not get him to change or wear shoes for that matter. Varric was stoic in his fashion choices as well. I turned my head continuing to walk. His trademark grin a permanent placement on his face. “Especially you Herald.”  
Cassandra gave another snort of disapproval, I swear sometimes he says some of the shit he says just to annoy her. Luckily I like the game as well.

“What gave it away the sword of the hair?” I return deadpan. After mentioning my hair, I flick one of my braids of my shoulder. “Or was it the glowing green thing on my hand? I know it’s my ridiculous armor, isn’t it?”  
Varric laughs at my attempts of seriousness. I had been trying to keep a straight face but as I went on I started to laugh as well. I even heard a small chuckle from Solas. This prompts Varric into speaking up, not that he needs much prompting.  
“We finally get a chuckle from you, eh, Chuckles.” I can’t help but giggle at Solas’ face, it is a mix of confusion and almost indignation.  
“Do I want to know her nickname?” Motioning behind me to the still silent Cassandra. Before Varric can respond Cassandra interrupts with an exasperated tone.  
“I do not think now is the best time to be indulging in such childish antics, we are meeting the Chantry leaders. We must make a good impression.” She huffs as she passes in front of us. As she passes I can’t help but notice that Solas’ eyes have been darting around constantly since we started walking toward the town center. His head doesn’t move but he shifts his attention from one thing to the next in a matter of seconds. It’s not a taking in the sights shifting, it’s a suspicious and cautious shifting one would use when walking into enemy or unknown territory. He must be as wary of the city’s inhabitants as I.  
As we near the center we can see that a platform has been erected, with a woman currently speaking from atop it. A small crowd has gathered around the base to hear her message. His red and white robes clearly mark him as Chantry. We mingle with the crowd waiting for our chance to speak. I only half listen to his message about how I caused the Divine’s death, ripped a hole in the sky etcetera, etcetera. Reminded me of old Hemskir in Whiterun.

The priestess sees me in the crowd. Her face distorts with hate and disgust. He points a finger at me. In a loud voice, she announces my prescience. “Look the so-called Herald of Andraste has dared show her face. What lies have you come to spread.” Before I can open my mouth to defend myself a group of armored men join the priestess on the platform. The woman speaks her tone hopeful. “The Templars have returned to the Chantry. Templars arrest this woman.” The man leading the Templars sneers at her, with blinding speed he swings his fist right into her face. The crowd gasps as she topples to the ground unconscious. My anger burns. I may not agree with their philosophies but to disrespect and assault a priest or persists is something I could never let go.  
“How dare you.” I shout seething with rage. The man turns at my outburst but does not acknowledge it. Cassandra speaks out to the man imploringly.  
“Lord Seeker Lucius it is imperative that.” The man Lucius cuts her off without even a glace. He turns and starts to walk off the platform, only then does he reply.  
“You will not address me.” Cassandra follows a confused and somewhat hurt look on her face.  
“Lord Seeker?” Her voice is questioning with a fragile tone to it. The Lord Seeker abruptly stops turning his body to face her. He does not look pleased.  
“Creating a heretical movement. Raising up a puppet as Andraste’s prophet. You should be ashamed.” His volume increasing with every word. “You should all be ashamed. The Templars did not fail when the left to Chantry to purge the mages. It id you who have failed leashing our righteous sword.”  
“That is enough.” I growl out not wanting to hear another word of this drivel. “You speak of justice and protecting the world. Do you not see that it is your war that tears the world apart, I have seen countless refugees come through the gates of Haven. Running from their homes, running from Your war. Yet you have the gale to condemn the only institution even trying to mend those wounds.” My outburst has drawn a crown at this point. I can see a few templars in the back looking down in shame. “Call me a heretic or a puppet all you wish. I know my purpose, whereas you have lost yours.”  
The Lord Seeker stares me down his rage and hate are nearly palpable. I do not yield, I stare right back letting him see the fire that runs through my veins. He backs down first with a command to the templars around him.  
“Templars let us leave this place.” I do not let up until he is out of sight. It is Varric who breaks the tension.  
“Charming fellow.” I give a grunt of acknowledgment. My blood is running too hot to be cooled by humor. Cassandra surprisingly does not give a disgusted sigh.  
“Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?” That breaks me from my haze. This has me thinking.  
“Did you know him well?” Cassandra continues to stare in direction the templars left from.  
“He took over the Seekers of Truth two years ago, after Lord Seeker Lambert’s death.” He now turns to me. “He was always a decent man, never given to ambition and grandstanding. This is very bizarre.”  
I give a nod at the statement. “Fortunately, the Templars are not our only hope.” I say trying to find a small pint of light in this situation. Cassandra shakes her head in disagreement.  
“Do not write them off so quickly. There must be some within the order who have seen what he has become. At any rate, we should return to Haven to discuss our options.” Her reasoning is sound but I can’t help but feel that something is very wrong with the templars.  
I cross back to the stage where the priestess is still on the ground obviously in pain. I reach out my hand to help her up. She glares at me. Her accented voice has an accusing tone to it.  
“This victory must please you Herald of Andraste.” I ignore her in favor of lifting her from the ground. Mindful of any injuries.  
“No priestess, nothing about this day pleases me. What I have seen greatly worries me. An order of holy knights turned their backs on the people, one dared strike you. I know what you may think of me, but I assure you that we only came here to talk.” She is on her feet now. She brushes my hand from her elbow. “I can only hope that one day you shall wish to converse.”  
I take my leave from her heading to the city gates. A noise stops me near one of the lion statues. I reach out my right hand signaling the party to stop. The noise is coming closer and closer. I can now identify it. An arrow rushes past me burying itself into the ground before me. That is one way of getting my attention. I draw close to it; a piece of parchment is stuck to it. Cassandra’s worried voice comes from behind me.  
“What’s that an arrow with a message attached to it?” Indeed, it is. The message is tied with a bright red scrape of cloth. I read the note.  
People say you are special, I want to help. I can bring everyone. Meet me at the loading docks of Val Royeaux at midnight tonight. There is something you should see. Signed Friends of the Red Jenny.  
Fascinating. I always love letter like these. Quite a few have ended with me blindfolded and naked in the woods fight for my life. Always fun. Varric speaks up.  
“What did the note say Herald?” I give him a grin. Solas becomes suspicious at that.  
“Who was it from?” He asks.  
“A friend of Red Jenny wishes to show me something tonight at midnight, best not be late.” All three are at as much of a lose as I am on who this person is. I am still pondering the letter when a young man approaches us at the gates.  
“My lady Herald. My mistress the Grand Enchantress wishes to invite you to her party tomorrow night at her villa.” He does not wait for my response before turning around to leave. Varric chooses this exact moment to return to his normal self.  
“My aren’t you popular today.” I give an undignified snort as we walk out of the city. Followed by Cassandra’s disgusted grunt and Solas’ sigh.


	11. Red Jenny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn meets a friend of Red Jenny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you guys know this chapter and the next will be shorter due to them being introduction chapters only. Also for those who have played the game a big decision is coming up. I shall keep you posted. This is a work of fiction I own nothing.

I could have easily gone to the meeting point on my own, had I not told my party about this meeting. We returned to the inn at sunset giving us time to prepare and rest before the meeting with the friends of the Red Jenny. 

 

I used the time to meditate. I had gone weeks without using my Thu’um power was building longing to be used. My magika called out to me as well. I knew it would only become worse if I ignored the call. The only shout quiet enough to not be detected is Aura Whisper.

 

“ _Laas Yah Nir” The_ shout goes out a mere wisp of sound passing from my lips. I feel the change in my eyes. The world is now an ethereal white punctuated by the colored life signatures of my companions and the other guests of the inn. Through my years of practice and meditation I have learned to distinguish different colors besides ally or foe.

 

Cassandra is a deep shade of crimson indicating loyalty and strength. Warriors are often shades of red. Varric is an emerald green, green marks him as a rogue, his shade is much richer than I have seen. Solas is even more strange, as a mage he should be blue as to indicate the magika all mages rely on. Most mages I have met have nearly identical blue auras, Solas’ has a royal blue, very rare as well. The rest of the patrons are plain yellows.

 

Before I can cast a spell, one activates without my help. Blue flames erupt from the floor. Lucien has returned from his task.

 

“My listener.” His voice gravely. He kneels next to me awaiting my response. I am still seated in meditative position.

 

“What news do you bring me friend?” In the first years of his servitude to me I learned that he had betrayed the order in life. In death, his punishment was to serve the Listener for all eternity. He has always been loyal to me, after his death he repented for his crimes, yet his punishment remained.

 

“I have delivered that which you have requested. They have sent letters in return. The Night Mother was not happy but is making due with the situation.” I turn my gaze from the fire to the letters in his hands. I reach out taking them from his grasp. Each bears the marks of the respective guild. All parties have replied.

 

“Thank you, Lucien. You are dismissed. I will call for you again in a week.” He bows his head. Before disappearing in flames once more.

 

The letters are all the same, reports of current goings on along with confirmation of my commands. I had instructed in my letter to the Thieves Guild to starts spreading rumors about Thedas in the hopes that they shall trigger rumors about Nirn here, nothing concrete just rumors.  I instructed the mages to stay far away from here and prepare for potential refugees. My council was instructed to respond to the Empress’ invitation but not to reveal anything about me. They had sent back that I had been invited to a Winter Ball some months off. They would start preparing a ship for the journey, also confirming the arrival of my raven. I will respond to all of them once I return to Haven. I return to meditation.

 

Cassandra knocks at my door at 11:30 rousing me from my nap, I fell asleep meditating, oops. I do not grab the axe that I have been using. Instead I grab a sword and dagger, nothing special but better for close quarters combat. I also grab a hooded cloak before closing the door. We leave the inn silently from the back.

 

The walk to the meeting point takes half an hour we reach the place at exact midnight. I pull my hood back to look around. I move my head just in time for a fireball to hit right where it had just been. A second one comes at me narrowly missing me again. A man with a golden mask stands near a fountain giving a clear guess as to who threw the fireball at me. He plants his fists on his hips with a haughty stance. Even his tone is dripping with contempt.

 

“The Herald of Andraste. How much did you expend do discover me? It must have weakened the inquisition immeasurably.” He gives a smug look waiting to see my reaction. I think he was waiting for shock and disbelief. I look to my team no one know who this guy is.

 

“Who are you?” I see his posture slump. I wish I could see his face. He springs back anger in his voice.

 

“You don’t fool me. I’m too important for this to be an accident. My efforts will face victories elsewhere against you and…” His grandstanding is interrupted by a grunt and a thump. We all turn to look where one of the guards has fallen dead revealing a slight elven woman wielding a bow. She aims her next arrow at the man.

“Just say ‘what’.” Directed at him still aiming the arrow.

 

“What is the meaning of this…” Those are his last words. The woman’s arrow buries itself deep into his neck effectively killing and silencing him.

 

The woman gives a lopsided grin at this, it reminds me of Cicero, dear Cicero. She nocks another arrow still grinning.

 

“Shall we finish off his friends, yeah?” She fires the arrow behind me striking the guard about to plunge a dagger in Varric’s back.  Varric jumps but quickly recovers as more guard’s poor into the courtyard.

 

The guards here are surprisingly untrained. They have flashy style that doesn’t hold up to straight forward hits. The style of in which Orlesian sword are forged is thin and light. Meant for thrusting and piercing. Not good for countering a downward strike followed by a slash from a dagger. With all five of us fighting we dispatch the reaming guards with ease. I hear the woman laugh near maniacally, slightly crazed.

 

“That was fun, yeah. Loved the look on the ponce noble face. Thanks for showing up, yeah.” I finally get a good look at the woman. She is slight, willowy, pale skin with wide blue eyes. Her blonde hair is short and shaggy, lopsided like her grin. She is an elf but doesn’t give off the same air as Solas. Her attar is just as eccentric as her. The top is bright red and all ripped with intentionally obvious repairs. Her leggings are in similar shape along with simple shoes. 

 

“So yer the Herald of Andraste yeah? You don’t look anything like I was expecting. You’re so tall, the hair is freaky man.” She flashes a grin with end of her statements.  Blunt, I like it.

 

“And you are the ‘friend’ who sent me the arrow.”  She giggles.

 

“Yeah, how else was I to get you attention, the name’s Sera.” She motions around her. “My friends and I wanted to help you. Ya see big people like this ponce here are always stepping on the little people. We wanted to make sure you had someone to remind you to remember the little people yeah.”

 

While I am contemplating her offer, Cassandra speaks up.

 

“Herald you can’t be thinking about trusting this woman.” Solas chimes is with similar sentiments.

 

“I agree Herald we barely know this woman and her organization.” I stop all protest with raising my hand.

 

“I appreciate your council and I agree we do not know that much about this Red Jenny. But Sera is right we must not lose sight that we are an organization that serves the people. I will be good to have someone to remind us of that.” I turn back to face Sera. “Welcome to the Inquisition Sera.”

 

She gives me a toothy grin then disappears into the night.


	12. Madam de Fer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grand party with a powerful lady.

Parties have never been my forte, before or after I became a ruler. Alas such things were excepted of me. My advisers in were forever tearing their hair out due to my lack of proper etiquette training. I was a born warrior not a noble, but I appeased them by trying. Long hours learning to dance and mingle among the nobility gave me useful tools in Orlais.

 The party was located at a grand villa, everything was gillded just like to city. Servants and guests milled about with soft music in the background. I had come alone tonight, Solas refused to come, Varric said he had had enough of noble games to last him a lifetime in Kirkwall, and Cassandra said that Leliana had sent an urgent message requiring her attention.  No matter.

 The doorman introduces me.

 “Lady Herald, representing the Inquisition.” I haven’t given anyone my full name. Last names of Nords are either deed names of the name of where you are from, makes it very complicated for me to give my full name.  I continue to walk forward stopping at the bottom of a marble staircase with sets of stairs on both sides. A fountain lies between them. A man and a woman, both dressed in typical Orlesian fashion complete with masks, stand in front of the fountain. The man speaks out it in a cultured accented voice.

 “What a pleasure to meet you Lady Herald. Seeing the same faces at every event becomes so tiresome.” I’m starting to find Orlesians tiresome. “So, you must be a guest of Madam de Fer. Or are you here for Duke Bastien?”

 The lady speaks up starting where the man left off with another question. She too has a delicately accented voice.

 “Are you here on business?” I am about to reply when she speaks again. “I have heard the most curious tales about you. I cannot imagine that half of them are true.”

 ‘If you could only know.’

 “I assure you my lady, they are.” I can’t tell due to the mask but she seems pleased by the statement.

 “Better and better.  The Inquisition should attend more of these parties.” I highly doubt that will happen. A new voice joins the conversation from the stairs. His tone mocking and conceited.

 “The Inquisition? What a load of pig shit! Washed up sisters and crazed Seekers. No one can take them seriously.” A young man descends from the stairs circling to face me.

  “Everyone knows it’s just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power.”

 “You are assuming people take you seriously with that hat.” I can’t see his reaction but I can hear the crowd laughing behind their hands.

 “Why you little.” He reaches for the sword on his back but is frozen mid-way.

 “My dear Marquis how unkind of you to use such language in my house, to my guests.” The voice is that of an exotic looking woman. Not wearing a dress like the rest, but a suit with large shoulders designed almost like wings. Her skin is the color of ebony. Her stance commands respect and authority. She too is masked, only hers has a magnificent headdress of horns to go with it. “You know such rudeness is, intolerable.”

 She speaks to him like a mother would to a petulant child, or someone tired of another’s shit. She glides toward him with collected grace.  The man is trembling as much as he can, given him being frozen. His voice comes out strained.

 “Madame Vivienne, I humbly beg your pardon.” He is afraid of her, of what she can do. She walks past him without so much as a glance.

 “You should.” She turns facing eye to eye. “Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?”

She turns to me continuing to speak.

“My Lady you are the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?” I think for just a second. She could very easily kill him, but that is not why I came.

“Let him go, his pride being destroyed is enough for me.” She gives me a smile. With a snap of her fingers the Marquis unfreezes.

“My poor Marquis didn’t your aunt give you that doublet to wear to the grand tourney. To think all those brave chevaliers who will be competing, they all left this morning and you are still here.” The Marquis slumps defeated and shamed. “Were you hopping to regain some pride by defeating the Herald of Andraste in a duel? Or did you think her blade could put an end to the misery of your failure. Run along my dear.”

 The marquis leaves disgraced. Madame Vivienne turns to me smiling.

 “I’m delighted you could attend this gathering. I’ve so wanted to meet you.” She leads me to a hallway away from the party. Stopping at an open window. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Vivienne, first enchanter or Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial court.”

 “A pleasure to meet you my lady. My thanks for inviting me to your party, interesting as it has been.”

“Ah but I didn’t invite you to the Chateau for pleasantries.” Down to business then. “With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles. Only the Inquisition might restore order and sanity to our frightened people. As the leader of the last loyal mages in Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause.”

 “The last loyal mages?” She sees my confusion.

“We have not forgotten the commandment. That magic is meant to serve mankind, order must be restored to see that happen.”

“The Inquisition welcomes you Lady Vivienne.” She smiles once again.

 “Great things are beginning my dear. I can promise you that.”

Great things indeed.

 

 


	13. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn returns to Haven.

Haven is as always when we return. We are all glad to be back from the capital. Sera has made herself comfortable in a corner of the inn. Vivienne has chosen an alcove inside the Chantry as hers. Each content with where they have chosen.

Talos has grown once more, I can see muscles beginning to gain mass. But he is still a little puppy, one day I shall take him with me. Leliana informs me that Dennett arrived safely along with his finest horses. She also requests a meeting of all the advisors.

We are seated at a large table, someone has lain a map of Fereldan and Orlais over it. Various markers lay scattered about the map. Cassandra is the first to speak, informing everyone about the trip to the capital.

“Our plans to talk to the Templars or the Chantry were not the most fruitful. Lord Seeker Lucius seems, off, to put it mildly.” Cullen does not look pleased with the information about the Templars.

“It’s a shame the Templars have abandoned their senses along with the capital.” Before the discussion can go further down that path I interject.

“Luckily we did not leave the capital without some small victory.” Ambassador Josephine nods in agreement, joining in the conversation.

“Yes, now we have what we need to approach the Templars. Leliana has news of the mages.” Leliana comes forward placing a scroll on the table.

“We received word from Grand Enchanter Fiona of the Fereldan mages, she had invited us to talk with them in Redcliff. I think it would be wise to hear what the mages have to say before we decide.” Cullen interrupts before Leliana can continue.

“You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!” I stand abruptly halting anymore outbursts.

“Peace Cullen, nothing has been decided. I will go to Redcliff to meet the mages and listen to what they have to say before we decide. In the meantime, Leliana see if you can’t find more information about what is going on inside the Templar order.” Cassandra, Josephine and Cullen get up from the table, silently, none wanting to speak further bout the issue, we all depart aside from Leliana.

“I apologize, I was not watching were I was walking.” A soldier with cropped brown hair, looking no worse for ware, having been bumped into, smiles back at me.

“No apologies needed my lady. It was my fault for hanging about the doorway.” His armor is different from the rest of the Inquisition’s forces. “I have been waiting by this door to deliver a message to the Herald.”

“I am she.” His eyes go wide.

“My apologies for not recognizing you my Lady. This is a message from the leader of my company, The Iron Bull. He wishes for you to come speak with him at the Storm Coast, about hiring his company for the Inquisition.” He hands me a letter, describing all that he had said. “Now if you excuse me my Lady Herald, I must return to my company.”

 

I drift around Haven for the rest of the day, sparring with Cassandra for the excises, later joining Harritt in the forge doing some repair work. The sun is beginning to reach the horizon when I see Cullen and Talos playing together. Cullen is throwing a ball at Talos, which Talos promptly catches and brings back.

“You aren’t supposed to catch it. If that were a fireball you would be dead.” Talos whines and rolls over, earning him an exasperated sigh from Cullen and a giggle from me. “You are not helping.”

“Well he is just a puppy Cullen, hardly a war dog yet.” Talos has rolled back to his feet bounding over to me with happy yips. I scoop him into my arms for cuddles. There may be fewer and fewer moments that I will be able to pick him up in the future. We pass the time in companionable silence watching the sun set over the Frostback mountains, the Breech still glowing green in the twilight. The moons start to rise when I speak again. “Cullen, why do you dislike mages?”

I feel him stiffen next to me. I let Talos run around, finding the little furless creatures called nugs to chase. After a moment or two Cullen lets out a strained sigh.

“I was in the Tower of Kinloch Hold when it fell to demons. I faced abominations and demons for days until the Hero of Fereldan came and liberated the Tower. A mage named Uldrid trapped me in a magical prison to torture me.” He leaves off, the memories obviously too painful to recount for long. “I was in Kirkwall when the rebel mage blew up the chantry there. Forgive me it is painful to speak of.”

“I understand Cullen, I can understand how those experiences would make you distrust or dislike magic and by proxy mages. I can understand your worry for your fellow Templars and the upcoming decision about whom we shall go to.” I feel him relax at my words. “Peace about the past is never easy to reach. If ever you need to speak to someone about your troubles, I am here for you.”

I turn my face to him give a soft smile, conveying understanding and compassion. He returns the smile.

“Thank you, Gwendolyn.” I blush at his thanks. He leaves with Talos. I am alone with the stars and snow.

 

As more and more stars light up the sky I think about what Cullen has told me. I could feel the pain in his voice when he talked about his past with magic. I can understand his reactions to it, reminding me of my battle with Ancano. His lust for power nearly destroyed the college and Winterhold. There are many instances of such lust in my past. I can understand his distrust, I at one-point distrusted Elves. I was seduced by Ulfirc’s cries of ‘Skyrim is Nords’, my hatred increased with the atrocities of the Dominion. Putting away my hatred was a task almost as daunting as facing Alduin. The more I lived among those I distrusted the more I softened towards them. Scares will always be there but in time they fade.

A twig snapping brings me from my thoughts. Behind me Solas looks sheepish.

“I didn’t not mean to interrupt you Herald.” He reaches me and sits down with me.

“It if fine Solas. I was merely thinking, please call me Gwendolyn. Being called Herald makes me think I need to be riding a white horse.” Solas chuckles at my comment. Turning into a full laugh with the next one. “Isn’t that what a knight or hero supposed to ride?”

“Then where is your golden armor.” His joke is refreshing, so often I see him as serious and rigid.

“Solas, I had been told that you study the Fade, will you tell me about it?”

Solas brightens at my inquiry. He tells me of his friend wisdom, I don’t mention that I have met a similar spirit. He regales tales of battle long past and the sites they were held, of Logahns treachery and betrayal of King Calin. His passion for the subject shines through telling me about ancient elven ruins. His stories lead long into the night. With the last he stands thanking me for showing interest in his work.

 

My dreams that night are once more in the Fade, Wisdom is there to greet me. Spirits flit around me curious as always. I can see why Solas would choose this to be his passion and life’s work, everything about this place is mysterious yet dangerous. It would be easy to dream your life away to travel here, yet something always feels disconnected here. Like a piece is missing, or I do not belong here, any reality for that matter. Morning comes quickly like most morning do. The dawn finds me locating the Storm Coast on the map. I have feeling that its name is not for show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, the mage or Templar choice is coming up soon. I could use some suggestions on which to choose. Thanks for reading. I own nothing.


	14. Storm Coast

My assumption about the Storm Coast is correct, the name is not for show. Only one other time have I been this cold, wet and miserable, stupid Mercer. We reached the coast after two days of riding. During those two days, the rain began at a sprinkle, by the time we set up camp it had turned into sheets of rain. We all ate cold food that night, everyone was miserable.

Reaching the Storm Coast gave little reprieve, Scout Harding who usually brings some cheer to her reports looks near drowned, despite being on “dry” land.

“Your Worship, for what it is worth, welcome to the Storm Coast.” I blink the rain from eyes to see her, luckily it is only raining at this point, not thunder to drown out the conversation. “I would have sent word sooner, but our efforts were delayed.”

“How so?” Scout Harding looks weary, being a scout is hard enough, but being constantly rained on all the while makes the job much harder.

“There is a group of bandits operating in the area, they know the terrain and our small party has had trouble going up against them. Some of our soldiers went to go speak with their leader, haven’t heard back though.” Her stance shifts at that information, losing men and not knowing what happened to them is always difficult.

“I shall do everything in my power to help, Scout Harding.” She shifts again regaining lost posture while looking relieved.

“Thank you, your Worship that is a relief. The soldier didn’t have an exact location for the bandits, but they were starting their search farther down the beach. Good luck and enjoy the sea air, I hear it’s good for the soul.” That last bit puts a small smile on her features, good to know humor in the Inquisition isn’t dead.

 

We set everything up before heading out into the coast. I have taken Vivienne, Sera and Blackwall with me. Solas, Cassandra and Varric needed some time off before the next mission. This is also an opportunity to see how each does in combat.

I walk to the edge of the cliff, where base camp is located, to get a better view of the surrounding area. To the left and right of me is rocky terrain with dense evergreen forests. In front of me is the sea. Farther along the beach I can barely make out figures fighting in the rain, I lean forward trying to get a better look, when the cliff gives way to a mudslide. There is less than a second between me feeling the earth giving way and me going with it. The entire camp hears what comes next.

“SHIT.” They all turn right as I am dropping down to beach. The water and mud takes me for a wild ride, through gullies and over rocks, spitting me out face first into the sea, right next to the fighting. I can hear the fighting stop just for a moment, I can’t see anything through the mud on my face. The fighting starts back up again, it takes me a moment to right myself. The waves are relentless, one hits me in the face, cleaning most of the mud from it, but leaving me with blurry eyes stinging from the salt. By the time I have reached the shore the fighting has stopped for good.

“Chargers, stand down.” A giant shadow falls over me as I am sitting on a log still recovering from sea water in my eyes. “Krem! How’d we do?”

The same voice as the messenger in Haven replies.

“Five or six wounded Chief. No dead.” The shadow speaks again.

“That’s what I like to hear. Let the throat cutters finish up, then break out the casks.” The shadow kneels to my eye level. “I assume you are with the Inquisition. You look like you could use a drink.”

Before I can reply with a heart ‘yes please’ I hear a chorus of voices shouting.

“My dear.” Vivienne.

“My Lady.” Blackwall.

Loud raucous laughing and snorts. Sera.

My eyesight finally clears, if front of me is not a shadow as I thought but a giant man with horns., actual horns. Not shirts just an eyepatch and a harness. My companions reach me, Sera still laughing. Vivienne comes over like a concerned mother hen.

“My dear are you all right, you took a nasty fall. We must get you out of those soaked clothes before you catch your death. Blackwall comes over with a blanket.

“My Lady.” I gratefully take it. Nord blood may give me an advantage of the cold but it doesn’t say anything about being cold and wet. Sera lets out another huge laugh. Through the guffaws she squeaks out a sentence.

“You looked like a duck with your ass in the air face in the sea.” She laughs so much she is snorting. Thank you, Sera. I turn back the horned man, he has a small smirk on his face, no doubt finding humor in Sera’s statement.

“Iron Bull I presume.” I stand to properly greet him, blanket still wrapped around me. He stands as well, his full height is impressive, he dwarfs those around me, aside from, well me. “I must apologize for my unorthodox greeting, nature it seems got the better of me. I must admit I have never met a Qunari before, apologies in advance for any staring that may come.”

Iron Bull doesn’t look the least put off, he merely nods.

“The horns give it away.” We lead him back to camp so I can change and get dry, if such a thing exists on the Storm Coast. He introduces me to his second in command, Cremisus Aclassi. We get down to business once I have changed into my spare armor.

“So, you’ve seen us fight. We are expensive, but worth it. I’m sure the Inquisition can afford us.” He is hiding something.

“Can’t say I say much of the fighting, being tossed into the sea and all that. But having none of you company dead after a battle with minimal injuries is impressive. The Inquisition can always use experienced fighters.”

“They are that, but you aren’t just getting the boys. You’re getting me.” I look at him expectantly. “You need a front-line bodyguard, I’m your man. Whatever you need, demons, dragons, the bigger the better.”

I highly doubt I shall need him for dragons but I don’t tell him that. He is keeping something from me. I move to stand but he stops me.

“There is one other thing, might be useful, might piss you off.” I sit back down. “Ever hear of the Ben-Hassrath?”

I shake my head no.

“They are Qunari spies, or we are.” Well that is a surprise. “The Ben-Hassrath are concerned about the Breach. Magic out of control like that could cause trouble everywhere. I’ve been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to those in charge, and report of what’s happening. But I also get reports from all over Orlais. You sign me on, I’ll share them with your people.”

“Either way the Ben-Hassrath will get their information, this way we know what they know.” I stand sticking my hand out to shake his. “Welcome to the Inquisition, Iron Bull.”

 

The bandits Harding told me about turn out to be a religious militia called the Blades of Hessarian. While searching for their camp we came upon a dropped note, stating that the leader may be challenged by any who wears the Mercy Crest. Included was recipe for the crest. Finding the items for the crest was not difficult, finding the camp was.

Iron Bull had stayed behind while the rest of the Chargers went on ahead to Haven. He carried an axe like me, and was deadly with it. He had a finesse many men near his size did not possess. We were searching the western beach when we heard it, a dragon’s roar. My blood instantly ignited, it called to me, the all-encompassing desire of dragon fire. But I couldn’t, not now. The more I fought it, the more it hurt. I sunk to the ground when I felt my eyes and teeth change. I couldn’t let them see me like this, not yet. My breath grew hot, the words at the tip of my tongue. Everyone gathered around me, concerned. I clutched my head, willing the voices of the dragon souls I’ve devoured into silence. My breath steamed in the cold. It was only until the dragon’s roars could no longer be heard, that the voices subsided. I willed my blood to cool. After another minute or two all was back to right. I stood up ignoring my companion’s questions, pushing on ahead, away from the dragon. I did not see Bull’s suspicious look.

It was another hour until we found the camp. The Blades let us in to challenge the leader. I called out for justice from the leader.

“You want justice? Come and claim it.” So, I did.

I did not wait for him to draw his blade, to draw mine. My red glass blade deadly as always. I gave him no chance to defend himself, I plunged my blade into his torso, piercing his heart before he even knew what hit him. Everyone was stunned, I gave it no heed wiping my blade with a rag. The Blades pledged their loyalty to the Inquisition. I sent a raven to Cullen informing him of his new soldiers in the area.

In my tent, later that night I meditated for hours, the dragon souls were still unruly, wanting to search out the dragon from earlier. I dared not speak to anyone out of fear that my Thu’um would be unleashed by accident. My hand ached from all the rifts I had closed these last few days. Sooner or later they would all find out who or what I am. I have a feeling that the time is drawing closer.

 


	15. Enter Tevinter

Vivienne did not let my outburst on the beach stay under the rug for long. She cornered me on the way to Redcliffe.

“My dear, we really must talk about your behavior on the beach the other day.” I sigh wishing we that we could be talking about anything else but this. I relent seeing as she won’t leave me be until I do.

“The dragon reminded me of some painful memories that I rather not relieve.” Her look changes from stern to sympathetic. “I apologize for my outburst, Vivienne. That was not an appropriate way for a leader to conduct herself.”

She leaves satisfied with my answer. It wasn’t a total lie, there are some painful memories involving dragons. Nearly being burned alive, while the headman’s axe hovers above you, is at the top of the list.

My dreams have been disturbing of late, I am wandering in the fade, two voices are calling for me. One beckons me to them, the other warns me away. The one calling for me uses honeyed words of flattery, as soon as I get closer to it, the other voice screams to stop. The scream wakes me every time, the last few times I can hear a third voice, cold full of hate, it is telling the second to leave them alone. The dreams leave me with no rest.

Upon reaching Redcliffe we immediately stop. A rift had opened in front of the gate. The party scrambles to get it formation. Demons pour from the pulsating green tear. We are all fighting the hordes when I feel a shift. I have felt this shift before, with an Elder Scroll. I look around, one group of demons is going slower than normal, while another is going faster. Something has warped time itself. It takes longer than normal but we manage to seal the rift.

“Did anyone else see that?” I inquire. Vivienne speaks up.

“The rift seemed to alter time itself.” We are all enter wary of what we might find.

An agent stops us right inside the gate. His message distressing.

“We spread word that the Inquisition was coming, but you must know no one here was expecting us.” That is odd.

“Not even Grand Enchanter Fiona?” The agent shrugs.

“If she was she hasn’t told anyone. We have arranged use of the tavern for negotiations.” This is very odd indeed. An elf runs up to us.

“Agents of the Inquisition, my apologies.” An obvious mage with dull brown armor. “Magister Alexius is in charge now, but has not arrived yet, he is expected shortly. You can speak with the former Grand Enchanter in the meantime.”

Something is going on here.

We head to the Gull and Lantern to speak with Fiona, maybe she can shed some light of this situation. The tavern is deserted save for us and a small band of mages. A elven woman in robes with dark hair greets up.

“Welcome agents of the Inquisition.” She must be Grand Enchanter Fiona. Fiona turns to Vivienne. “First Enchanter Vivienne.”

“My dear Fiona, it’s been so long since we last spoke. You look dreadful. Are you sleeping well?”

Fiona ignores Vivienne’s question.

“What has brought you to Redcliffe?” Now I know something is wrong. I can’t give anything away; all the players are not here yet. I reply politely.

“Grand Enchanter, we had received word from the mages that they wished to meet with the Inquisition.” Fiona gives a perplexed look.

“You must be mistaken, I have sent no such word.” She looks away sad. “Whatever or whomever has brought you here, I’m sorry to say has wasted your time. The free mages have already pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Emporium.” She said the word ‘pledged’ with great hesitation. Vivienne gives a very unimpressed blink.

“Fiona, your dementia is showing.” Fiona gives a small sigh.

“As one indentured to a magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you.” Indentured servitude is no better than slavery. The door of the tavern opens, letting in two men.

“Welcome my friends, I apologize for not greeting you earlier.” The man speaking has a greasy quality to him, like a snake. I know who he is.

“You must be Magister Alexius.” He walks right in between me and Fiona, effectively cutting conversation. Rude. The second man stands right next to him.

“The southern mages are under my command. And you are the survivor, yes?” He speaks the last part with near reverent curiosity. “The one from the Fade? Interesting.”

I want to shudder.

“Let us negotiate then.” I cannot leave the mages under this slimy cretin. Trading one form of slavery for another. He brightens at my proposal.

“It is always a pleasure to meet a reasonable woman.” He motions me to follow to a table. “Felix would you send for a scribe please. Pardon my manners this is my son Felix.”

The young man who came with Alexius bows, I now see the family resemblance. Before we start talking Felix returns, but he does not look well. His eyes are sunken, skin pale, he starts to stumble. I reach out and catch him. He falls into my arms. Alexius stands, face etched with worry.

“Felix.” Felix recovers shortly.

“Forgive my clumsiness my lady.” Alexius goes to his side.

“Are you alright.” He doesn’t wait for Felix’s answer. “Come I’ll get you your powders. Please excuse us friend we will have to continue this another time.”

I look at the note Felix passed to me, once they have left. It reads. ‘Come to the Chantry. You are in danger’.  To the chantry it is.

 

A man fighting a demon greets us at the chantry. A giant rift behind him, above the altar.

“Good you are finally here. Now help me close this.” The rift sends out a pulse. The battle is short but leaves us all breathless. The man turns to me after I seal the rift. “Fascinating. How does that work exactly?”

“I have no idea. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” The man chuckles slightly.

“You don’t even know. You just wiggle you fingers and boom rift closes.”

“Yes, we have that established, now can we establish your name, Ser.”

“Ah getting ahead of myself.” The man bows. “Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous, how do you do.”

I hear Iron Bulls baritone in the back.

“What yourself, the pretty ones are always the worst.” How true a statement, Bull.

“Magister Alexius was my mentor, so my assistance shall be valuable.” Just a tad full of himself.

“I was wondering who the note was from. Any assistance is welcome. I am curious, where is Felix?” I look around not seeing a trace of him.

“He should be on his way.”

“What is Felix ill with?” I may not be an expert healer but I could see his illness from a mile away. Dorian sighs.

“Felix has had a lingering illness for month, being an only child Alexius is becoming quite the mother hen.” Poor Felix. “Look, I sent the note because someone needed to warn you. You must know that there is danger, that should be obvious. Let’s start with Alexius claiming the mage’s allegiance out from under you. As if by magic, yes?”

“We encountered rifts that twisted the very fabric of time when we first arrived in Redcliffe, I can assume by your tone that Alexius is behind that.” Dorian nods.

“To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself.” That’s never good, time travel is risky and demands a heavy price. “The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable and is unraveling the world. Why he is doing this for a few hundred mages, I don’t understand.”

“He didn’t do it for them.” A voice from the shadows states, Felix emerges from the shadows.

“Took you long enough, is he getting suspicious?” Felix shakes his head.

“No, but I shouldn’t have played the illness card. I thought he would be fussing over me all day.” Felix looks worried. “My father has joined a cult, Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves the Venatori. And I can tell you one thing. Whatever he has done for them, he has done to get to you.”

“All that effort just for me?” Dorian gives a small smile.

“Send a fruit basket.” I crack a smile in turn.

“Ah yes, everyone loves those.” Dorian’s smile falls.

“In all seriousness, you know you’re his target. Knowing about a trap is the first step in using it to your advantage. I can’t stay in Redcliffe. Alexius doesn’t know I’m here, and I want to keep it that way for now. But when you want to deal with him, I want to be there.” He walks to a doorway. “I’ll be in touch. Oh, and Felix try not to get killed.”

Felix mutters as he leaves.

“There are worse things than dying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who commented. Thanks for reading and liking. I own nothing.


	16. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn chooses either the mages or Templars. A little bit of interaction with Cullen and the Dragonborn.

I feel as I am being pulled two ways. I don’t open my eyes. I know I am dreaming. I can hear both voices battling for my attentions. The honeyed voice takes a sharp change, becoming a screech. I open my eyes then. It is the same voice that I heard at the end of my last few dreams. I run from the screech.

“No, I shall have you. Your life shall be mine.” I can’t see anything besides the fog of the Fade, but I feel it running behind me. I throw out my right-hand laying fire and lighting runes to impede its progress. I hear the soft voice ahead.

I run until I no longer hear the screeches. The soft voice is closer to me now but I still can’t see anything.

“Don’t go to Therinfall, he wants you. You must not go.” I feel the waking world start to pull me back, before it toes I see the outline of a boy in the fog.

I wake gasping, my heart racing. I know what I must do. Neither option is safe for me. But the screeching voice said it wanted my life. To leave the mages in the servitude of a cult is even worse. Dorian said that Alexius’ magic would destroy the world, I must go where a world eater is. My mind is made.

 

I call a war council as soon as it is light enough. I wait till they are all seated to reveal my decision.

“I have decided that we shall side with the mages. Alexius sent a letter asking for me to go to Redcliffe castle to negotiate, alone.” Cullen is not pleased.

“We don’t have the man power to take Redcliffe castle. Either we find another way in or give up this nonsense and turn to the Templars.” Cassandra rebuttals.

“The mages are under a Tevinter Magister. WE cannot allow that to continue.” Josephine cuts in.

“The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald by name. It is clearly a trap.” I am getting tired of their bickering.

“I know it is a trap. We need to stop arguing.” Cullen gives me stern look.

“Redcliffe castle is the most fortified castle in all of Fereldan, it has repelled hundreds of assaults. If you go in there, you will die and we will lose the only means we have of closing these rifts. I won’t allow it.” The last part is spoken more softly than the rest.

Everyone goes on to bicker about staring a war, hostile foreign powers, I have had enough. I slam my fist down on the table, cracking it a bit. My voice is tight with restrained anger.

“You think I haven’t thought of all of this. I have stayed away for hours at night haunted by this choice. I have had nightmares telling me not to seek the Templars. I have made my decision, we need to find a way into that castle.” I sink into my chair exhausted. Everyone looks at each other. Leliana speaks first.

“There is a secret passage, an escape route for the family. Our troops may not fit but our agents will.” Cullen opens his mouth to speak, but a well-placed look from me silences him. Leliana continues. “We need a distraction, so our agents are not discovered.”

The door slams open, Dorian striding in.

“Fortunately, you will have help.” He walks right up to the table. “Your spies will never get past Alexius’ magic without my help.”

Cullen still isn’t convinced.

“The plan puts you in the most danger. We can’t in good conscience order you to do this.” I give chuckle.

“No one can order me to do anything Cullen, I want to do this, it is the right thing to do.” I take a dagger the was lying on the table and stab it through the icon for Redcliffe castle.

 

The rest of the day is spent preparing for the mission. Cullen avoids me. I talk to Leliana about the path our agents will take, she assures me that only the best will be going. She seems guarded.

Cassandra is sharpening her sword when I ask her to accompany me to Redcliffe. She stops me as I am leaving with a question.

“Do you believe in the Maker?” We have never discussed religion or faith. Being the Dragonborn make me a child of Akitosh, thus bringing me closer to the Divines. Religion for me is personal as it should be for all people. I answer truthfully.

“I worship a maker, it may not be the same as yours but I do believe that I was sent here for a reason.” Cassandra is satisfied with this answer.

 

Varric is the only other member besides Dorian and Cassandra who is coming with me. He has become one of my greatest friends over the last few months.

 

I find Cullen at the same place we last talked. Talos is sitting next to him, head on paws. Cullen doesn’t even look at me.

“Cullen, I know my choice of aiding the mages does not sit well with you, but you must understand. They have lived their whole lives in a tower, now they are basically slaves to Alexius. I cannot allow that to happen to them.” He doesn’t respond, choosing to stare at the frozen lake. “I know you are worried for me, thank you, I can’t always sit by and let others fight for me. I am a soldier Cullen, I have faced worse.”

Only then does he look at me. His eyes are sad and pleading. I take his hand in mine, sitting in silence. Divines, I might be falling for him. I let go of his hand with that revelation, staring into his golden eyes. Oh, how I want to kiss him right now, but that wouldn’t be right. Instead I kiss him on the cheek. He turns red like a snow-berry. I stand leaving him to his thoughts. I turn red like a snow-berry as I am walking away.


	17. Redcliffe Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter before time travel shenanigans.

Josephine once again requisitioned a new armor set for me. This one was called the armor of the dragon, how fitting. It provided more protection than the last, which was good. It was time to leave my axe behind, it was not conducive to close quarters combat. Instead I took my red glass blade and its brother Chillrend. Frost enchantments are good against mages. I stocked a few drain magika poisons and healing potions, as an afterthought I packed a cure disease potion, for Felix. Not knowing what I might face I packed Auriel’s bow.

We were all silent on the journey to Redcliffe, we all knew the peril we were facing. We reached the castle at dusk. A masked mage was waiting for us in the entry hall. His was not like Orlesian masks, His was much more sinister. A blond servant came down the stairs to meet us.

“Magister Alexius’ invitation was for the Herald only.” I know that. I give Cassandra and Varric a look, both shrug. “The rest will wait here.”

“I understand that the invitation was for me alone, but as you can see these are my advisors, they are here to help with negotiations.” The servant looks a bit flustered at my insistence, but eventually relents.

He leads us to the main hall. Alexius has set up a throne in front of the fireplace. No other light pieces the room. The servant who led us here announces us.

“My lord magister, agents of the Inquisition have arrived.” Alexius is sitting in his throne, one leg crossed over the other, patiently waiting like a snake waits for its prey. He will be surprised when this prey turns to be the predator. He stands to greet me.

“My friend, it’s so good to see you again.” His voice is think with veiled contempt. “And you associates, of course. I’m sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties.”

Fiona comes up from her spot at the foot of the stairs, face angry.

“Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?”

“Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives.” Ha, more like forced into it.

“The Inquisition initially came to speak with the free mages, seeing as Fiona was their leader she is more than welcome to join in deciding their fate.” Alexius does not look pleased with my interruption. HE takes a seat once more on his throne.

“The In question needs mages, what are you willing to give in exchange for them.” I hear Leliana’s forces start to move in the background, being a thief and an assassin has its perks.

“I will give you nothing, humans lives will not be bartered for like cattle.” My eyes harden, enough of this game. Felix moves from his father side.

“She knows everything father.”

“Felix, what have you done.” The sound of betrayal is all was bitter with a tinge of disbelief. Always coming from those you least expect it.

“Your son is worried about you, seeing as you have joined a cult.” Alexius drops the charade.

“So, speaks the thief.” Your point? “You think you can turn my son against me? You walk into my stronghold, with your stolen mark, a gift you don’t even understand and think you are in control.”

We glare at each other.

“You are nothing but a mistake.” Now I’m mad.

“Empty words coming from a man who joined a cult, enslaved mages and is currently squatting in the Arl’s home. Who is the thief now? I may not understand this mark but I know that the time magic you used is tearing the fabric of time itself apart. If I am a thief of this mark who does it belong to?”

“It belongs to your better.” I’m really starting to hate him. “You wouldn’t even begin to its purpose.”

Felix speaks up obviously distressed.

“Father listen to yourself. Do you know what you sound like?”

“The same villainous cliché everyone expects us to be.” Dorian decides to join us finally.

“Dorian.” Alexius is blank. “I gave you a chance to be a part of this, you turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes.”

The final player is revealed.

“Just who is this Elder One.” This Elder One must have killed the Divine.

“Soon he will become a god.” No. “He will make the world bow to mages once more. We will rule from the Boric ocean to the frozen sea.”

Fiona is outraged.

“You can’t involve my people in this.” Dorian tries once more to reason with Alexius.

“Alexius this what you and I talked about never wanting to happen.” I hear arrows in the background, show time. “Why would you support this?”

Alexius doesn’t answer, his back turned to us.

“Father let’s go home.” Alexius turns around face sad.

“No Felix, he can save you. It’s the only way.” Felix takes a step back.

“Save me?” Alexius sounds mad.

“There is a way the Elder One promised.” But at what cost. “If I undo the mistake at the Temple.”

He means me.

“I’m going to die father, you need to accept that.” Not if I can help it.

“Seize them Venatori. The Elder One demands this woman’s life” Nothing happens, they are all dead. My agents pour in from the shadows.

“You will not be taking my life Alexius.” Alexius gets a crazed panicked look, like a cornered animal.

“You are a mistake.” He takes out a glowing green pendant, charging a spell. “You should never have existed.”

Dorian tries to stop him with another spell, but it is too late, a swirling hole opens in front of us. It pulls Dorian and I into it.  All around me is darkness.

 


	18. Dark Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn and Dorian travel to a dark future wrought by Alexius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the Dragonborns skills are legendary. I had to save Felix somehow.   
> I own nothing. Also thanks to all who have read this work it has officially passed 1,000 views.

I land in a dungeon knee deep in cold water, Dorian lands next to me. It takes a second for the green mist of the spell to dissipate. Two guards suddenly come in, bewildered about our appearance. They rush us. I am still hazy but manage to fend them off. Dorian is just as confused as I am. I look around really getting my bearing. All around us is red lyrium, its presence fills the air with malevolence, my skin is crawling from it. I turn to Dorian to find answers, I know that we have traveled time, the feeling was similar to reading the Elder Scroll.

“When are we Dorian?” He gives me shocked look.

“This isn’t probably what Alexius intended, the amulet moved us through time.” This is unexpected. “Alexius was trying to remove you from time completely.”

“That is impossible to do.” Dorian gives a quizzical look. “The continuation time relies on me, I was prophesized about. To try and remove me would cause the worlds destruction. Thank Akitosh I am not that easy to destroy. Dorian, I believe we have moved forward in time, don’t ask how I know, I just do. Secondly whatever happens now must not be mentioned to others until the right time.”

Dorian doesn’t say a word. The cell we are in has an iron door, simple enough. I don’t bother looting for a key. If I am in the future then I don’t need to hold back, time is funny that way. I got the door grabbing the iron with my hands. I rip the door from its very hinges “Maker’s breath, how did you do that?” Dorian is astounded. I am going to be sore tomorrow, I don’t often use dragon strength. “What are you.”

“You shall soon find out.” I take out two drain magika potions, drenching my twin glass blades in them. “To drain a mages magika.”

Dorian’s eyes widen. He steps through the now open doorway.

“What do we do now?” I think for a moment. I can assume we are still in the castle, but I don’t know much else. “We don’t know what is waiting for us, neither of us can see through walls.”

“Actually, I can.” Dorian’s jaw drops. “ _Laas Yah Nir.”_

I look in every direction, every figure is bluish black, enemy mages. I strain to see past, rewarded by a few colored figures, two green, one blue another red. I know who they are. The shout ends, my field of vision returning to normal.

“I know where my friends are.” We head to the nearest familiar figure. Dorian wants to fight every enemy we encounter, I convince him to sneak around them. We don’t know how many there are, we still have the element of surprise.

We reach another section of the dungeon, giant red lyrium crystals sprout from all corners. We find a woman encased in the stuff. It is Fiona!

“You are alive?” Her voice is weak and distorted. “I saw you disappear into the rift.”

“How long have we been gone Fiona? What happened here?” She turns her head to face us, wincing in pain. Dorian asks as well.

“We need to know the date, it is very important.”

“942 Dragon.” I don’t know what that means. Dorian replies.

“942, we have missed an entire year?” A year isn’t that bad, the protocols back home don’t take effect until certain conditions are met, that takes a load of my mind. Fiona speaks, pleading with us.

“Please stop this from happening. Alexius serves the Elder One, he is more powerful than the Maker. No one challenges him and lives.”

“I promise Fiona this will not come to pass, you have my word.” I have heard those words before, Alexius doesn’t know who he tried to kill. “I have faced gods before, I won’t fail.”

Fiona sighs in relief, sagging from the effort it took to talk.

“Your spy master Leliana is here, find her before the Elder One learns you are here.” I nod. There is nothing I can do for her now. Dorian and I leave.

“What did you mean when you said you have faced gods before.” I can’t doge questions forever.

“Exactly what I said, Dorian. I have faced a few would-be gods and championed for more.” He doesn’t get it. “I am a child of a god myself, not a literal child, its complicated. It is my job to make sure the world is not destroyed.”

Dorian’s eyebrows go back.

“So, it is true, you were sent by the maker.”

“In a way.” We reach the door of another room of cells. A woman can be heard reciting a prayer, Cassandra.

I find her sitting on the floor of a barren cell. A red haze circles her head.

“Cassandra. It is me.” She looks up, shock apparent on her face.

“You have returned to us, can it be?” Her voice is distorted like Fiona’s. Must be side effect of continued exposer to red lyrium. “Has Andraste given us another chance? Maker forgive me, I failed.”

I start to pick the lock. Cassandra is in a delicate state right now, to see something like me rip the door off its hinges would push her over the edge. She speaks again.

“The end must be upon us if the dead return to life.” The door swings open.

“Cassandra, listen to me. I am not dead.” She looks skeptical. I kneel and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We were thrown forward in time by Alexius.”

Dorian takes over explaining.

“We are going to try and go back to the past.” Cassandra starts at that.

“Back in time, to make sure none of this will ever take place?” She stands, a little wobbly. I stand with her.

“I will make sure Alexius wishes I was that easy to get rid of.

“After you died the Elder One rose to power. We could not stop him.” Her face falls at this revelation. “Empress Selene was murdered. The army that came after was a horde of demons. Nothing could stop them.”

“We will stop him Cassandra.” She nods.

“Maker guide us all.”

 

Cassandra picks up a sword from a Venatori agent we fought. The next ally we find is Varric.

“Andraste’s sacred knickers, you’re alive.” I again pick the lock. “Where were you, how did you escape?”

“Alexius sent us into the future. Dorian supplied the explanation this time. Varric saunters out, despite all the chaos around us.

“Everything about you is weird.” Glad to know the apocalypse hasn’t robbed him of his humor.

“Truer words my friend, I shall tell you about the weirdest moments of my life sometime.” He grins.

“I knew I was right, usually am. When I’m not I lie about it.”  He turns serious. “What are you doing here? Or did you come back just to trade quips with me.?”

“We came to change this future by going back to the past. Also to some Tevinter butt.” Dorian gives me a look. “Sorry.”

“You want to take on Alexius?” His usual grin turns to a scowl. “I’m in. Alexius has barricaded himself in the throne room.”

Varric had fought tooth and nail to keep Bianca with him. She was worn but could still fight. Time to find our Nightingale.

We reach higher up in castle. A loud angry voice demands answers from a prisoner.

“How did the Herald know about the sacrifice?” After a pause, he yells again. “Answer.”

“Never.” Leliana. A slap resounds from the room. What I find in the room has me shaking with rage. Torture devices litter the room. Leliana is strung up by chains, her face pale and aged beyond her years. The torturer has his back to the door. Pressing a blade to Leliana’s throat.

“You will break.” She sees me in the doorway. Her eyes harden. He turns back to see me, as he does so Leliana wraps her legs around his throat.

“No, you will.” It takes a second for him to stop writhing, she finally snaps his neck with a final twist. “You died.”

I get her down from the chains, to angry to say anything. Dorian says it for me.

“Alexius sent us forward in time we are headed to find him so we can get back.” Leliana walks to a chest finding a bow. I wish I could let her use Auriel’s but I don’t know how she will react.

“Mages wonder why everyone is terrified of them.” She has a point. “No one should have this power.”

She wordlessly joins the others waiting for us to move out. We fight our way through countless Venatori. My rage does to abate, for once I don’t fight it. We reach the throne room door. It is sealed with an ancient lock. I have no time or patience for this.

_“Fus Ro Dah.”_ Unrelenting force opens the door. Alexius is where I last saw him, facing the fireplace. “You have no idea who you tried to destroy, do you?”

“I knew you would appear again, not that it would be now. But I knew I hadn’t destroyed you.” He still faces the fire. “My final failure.”

“Was it worth it? Everything you did to the world?” Dorian demands.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Alexius sounds defeated “All we can do is wait for the end.”

Leliana runs up and grabs the figure crouched behind Alexius, pressing a knife to his throat.

“Felix!” That decrepit creature is his son. Dorian vocalizes my same thoughts.

“That’s Felix, Alexius what have you done?”

“I did what I had to. Please don’t hurt my son.” Alexius reaches out to Leliana. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

 “I want the world back.” With that she slits Felix’s throat, letting him fall forward, blood staining the stone. I do not stop it. Alexius has made his choices now come the consequences, heartless as it seems. Alexius is broken at the sight of his dead son.

“No. NO. NOOOOO!” He screams. He charges a spell that sends Leliana flying across the room. He starts to charge a barrier spell blocking any physical blows we might deliver.

Leliana is struggling to get up while we fight off the Venatori flooding into the throne room. Cassandra and Varric can’t keep up. We need more allies, an atronach spell will help. But it takes time to cast, I just need 30 seconds.

_“Fass Ru Maar.”_ The shout takes instant hold on all the enemies, they cower from an unseen voice. I start to charge a frost atronach spell. It comes right as the shout wears off. Everyone is stunned by its presence, probably thinking it is a demon. The atronach clears the path to Alexius, whose barrier has fallen. I sprint toward him, Dorian yelling for me to grab the amulet.

Alexius sees me charging him and throws a fireball at me. I grab it in my open palm absorbing its magika replenishing mine. I send back a bolt of lightning, momentarily stunning him. He recovers pulling the amulet from his robes, simultaneously bringing his barrier back up.

_“Wuld.”_ The last few feet between us rapidly closes. I knock him to the ground pinning him with my sword. “Yield, Alexius.”

“Never.” He tries to charge one more final spell. I have no choice but plunge Chillrend into his heart. Despite his rage he passes with a peaceful smile on his face. I can almost hear him whisper his son’s name, going to join him.

I stand taking the amulet from his hand, my atronach dissipates. Dorian walks to my side, saddened at the loss of both his friend and mentor.

“He wanted to die, didn’t he?” He kneels next to the bodies of Alexius and Felix, both having fallen next to each other’s. “All those lies he told himself, the justifications, he lost Felix long ago. Dint even notice. Oh Alexius.”

He stands, I place a hand of his shoulder.

“Come now Dorian we can still save them.” I hand him the amulet.

“I suppose you are right.” He looks at the amulet. “Thankfully it’s the same one from Minrathous, give me an hour to work out the spell.”

Leliana runs up to us.

“AN hour, that is impossible, you must go now.” Before I can ask her why, the ground begins to shake. I hear it a dragon’s roar, however distorted it may be. My blood starts to burn, we don’t have an hour. “The Elder One.”

Cassandra and Varric exchange a knowing look.

“We will hold the door, once they get past us it will be your turn.” Cassandra informs us of their choice. I can only nod, knowing that this must be done. They move to the door.

“Cast your spell.” Leliana turns back to us. “You have as much time as I have arrows.”

I join Dorian near the fire. Dorian starts the spell, it begins glowing green. We hear explosions on the other side of the door. Leliana starts praying. The door slams open a Venatori and a demon come through dragging the lifeless body of Cassandra with them. Leliana fires her arrows but is fading fast, we don’t have enough time. I turn back to the floating amulet and let my magika flow into it. The portal opens, I look back once more to see Leliana fighting for her life, but is captured by an agent. The last I see of her is a demon plunging its claws into her abdomen. Not wishing to see anymore I jump through the portal, unshed tears stinging my eyes.

 

I land back where this all started, the throne room. The mist dissipates into nothingness. Alexius is standing there shocked to see us alive. I march towards him, he steps back. I don’t say anything, I just grab his robes by the front and punch him hard in the face. Dorian chooses now to be witty.

“You’ll have to do better than that.” I release my grip on him, letting him thud to the ground. He is defeated. I stand towering over him, fire blazing in my eyes, I let him see it.

“Yield.” My voice is barley there, the Thu’um just below the surface.

“You won.” Even now he is reluctant to admit it. “There is no point extending this charade. Felix.”

He reaches for his son as my soldiers take him away. I cross to Felix. Bending down to whisper in his ear.

“Go to the port of Denirim, ask around for someone who knows the pirate Isobel, tell her that I sent you, she will take you across the see. When you get across the sea go to a land called Skyrim. There you will find a town called Whiterun, find the temple of Kynareth, they will help you. All you need do is mention my name and tell them the Dragonborn sent you.” He looks confused. I press a few cure disease potions into his hands. “These will help you on the journey and hopefully heal you. May Mara have mercy on you.”

Our little interlude is broken when the rest of the Inquisition’s forces arrive, or so I thought they were. A blond man walks into the room, not looking happy. Fiona speaks.

“King Alistair.” So, this is the king of Fereldan.

“Fiona, imagine my surprise when I heard that you and your followers had given Redcliffe Castle to a Tevinter magister.” Fiona tries to defend herself but the king does not listen. “I wanted to help you, but now that is impossible. You and your mages are no longer welcome in Fereldan.”

Fiona is crestfallen.

“Where will we go? We have hundreds who need protection.” I speak up before anything more can be said.

“The Inquisition came here to offer and alliance to the Free Mages. The offer still stands.” I cross to them. Cassandra does not look pleased, a look promising a future lecture. The kings agree with me.

“I would take their offer. Either way you are leaving my kingdom.” Fiona bows her head in agreement.

“It would be madness not to.” She lifts her head. “I will gather and ready my people for the journey to Haven.”

“Don’t make me regret this.” She looks down once more knowing her place is tentative.

 

My advisors yell at me for a solid hour once I return to Haven. Cullen is the most vocal.

, he rages about abominations. He turns his fury on me.

“What were you thinking turning mages loose with no over sight?” I cross my arms. “The Veil is torn open.”

“If you had bothered to listen to me before you started your lecture. You would have heard that before we left Redcliffe Fiona and I discussed the terms of the alliance. I have a signed copy in my hands.” I toss the contract onto the table. “That contract states that while they are not conscripted they are not fully free as well. The Free Mages while retaining their autonomy report directly to the Inquisition by way of Grand Enchantress Fiona. Fiona agreed to these terms, while not ideal, I can understand the knifes edge that mages walk.”

They still look peeved but don’t say anything, Cullen especially.

“We should consider what you saw in this dark future.” Ah, Leliana always the voice of reason.

“One battle at a time.” Cullen sounds exhausted from all this arguing. “We must take this to the war room. Join us this all would be for naught without your mark.”

“There goes my nap.” Cullen smiles for the first time since the arguments started.

“What is it they say. No rest for the wicked?” No rest indeed.


	19. Corypheus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn closes the rift. All the players reveal themselves. The Dragonborn reveals her power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have read this story. Thank you to all who have commented. It gave me great joy to write this chapter. The completion of this chapter marks it official transition into a novel length work.  
> As always I own nothing. Enjoy the story.

Closing the Breach was exhausting. We went up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes with the strongest mages. Solas directed them to focus their energy past me. I could feel their power flow into the mark, their magika did not feel all that different from mine but there was a difference. I closed the Breach with a snap of my wrist. The shockwave that came with its closing bushed all us backwards. It was done, the heavens were at peace once more. My work here was done, the world eater chained.

I stand and watch the rest of the Inquisition dance and make merry as I contemplate what I will do next. By all accounts my job is done. I promised to seal the sky and I have, wars are the leader’s problem. My empire will soon be coming into contact with the land of Thedas, Empress Selene had requested I come to see her. I am brought out of these thoughts by Cassandra, I shall miss her once I leave. One day I hope she shall come to my home and see the dragons there, bull too as he voiced extreme interest in dragons. I shall miss all of them, rare is it that make so many friends, allies yes but friends are a rare and beautiful thing. I turn to Cassandra, a smile on my face. My work may be done but that does not mean I am not happy for them.

“Solas confirmed the heavens are scared but stable.” She sounds at peace for once since this began. “The Breach is sealed. We have reports of lingering rifts, many questions still remain, but this was a victory. Word of your heroism has spread.”

“Heroes are always helped by their friends.” I drop my smile a tad, knowing my next words may upset her. “Cassandra, I promised to seal the sky, which I have done. I will help close the rest of the rifts, but eventually I must return home, I have obligations I must fulfill. You have been a good friend to me, thank you for believing in me.”

She begins to speak but is cut off by a sound on the mountain wind. Swords and feet clanging, many swords and feet. An army. The bells toll. We see a sea of torches coming over the mountains crest.

We both sprint to the gates following Cullen who commands the recruits to arms. All around is sheer panic. I see all my companions running towards the gate as well. Cullen is standing by the closed gate when we reach him, all the advisors join. Cassandra speaks in a confused tone.

“Cullen.”

“One WatchGuard reported a massive force, the bulk of it over the mountain.” Josephine chimes in.

“Under whose banner?” Cullen shakes his head.

“None.” That’s not good. An explosion rocks the gate followed by a familiar voice.

“I can’t come in unless you open.” I know that voice. I grab the gates.

Our forces lay slaughtered around. A massive helmeted man with an equally massive axe walks stalks in front of me. He doesn’t come close, he falls dead to the ground, a young man with a wide hat stands behind him, dagger in his hand. I run to him, Cullen close behind followed by Talos, now nearly grown.

“I’m Cole. I came to war you. To help.” This is the voice from my dreams. “People are coming to hurt. You probably already know. The Templars have come to kill you.”

“Templars!” Cullen is outraged and moves toward Cole, I place an arm out to stop him. “Is their response for to us going to the mages? Attacking blindly?”

“The Red Templars went to the Elder One.” That explains it. “You know him, he knows you. You took his mages. There”

I follow Coles finger. In the distance, I see a grotesque creature unlike anything I have ever seen. His body is skeletal with red lyrium growing out of his face. Pure evil emanated from this foul creature.

“He is very angry. That you took his mages.” I can see that. We must defend the people from the waves of Red Templars approaching us.

“Cullen, we need to protect the people.” I glance nervously to the nearing forces.

“Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this we must control the battle.” That I can do. “Use everything you can.”

This is a battle for our lives.

“Cullen keep the majority of the forces back. Defend the townspeople.”  Cullen nods. I call for my companions to join me in battle. “Mages, unleash fury, protect the people.”

“Inquisition with the Herald.” Cullen bellows drawing his sword. “For your lives.”

 

The Red Templars are tenacious. They fight without fear, they know no pain. Wave after wave comes from the mountain. I see mages fall all around me, we can’t keep this up. They are no army. Everyone is doing what they can to keep them from the trebuchets. Volley after volley of flaming projectiles are launched, nothing slowing the Red Templar tide. I see my companions start to falter moving in closer to the trebuchet. I have to do something, it hits me. We are in the mountains, from a young age I was always told never to yell on a mountain side in winter for fear of causing an avalanche. That is what we need now. I go to the lever to turn the trebuchet but it is jammed, it must be turned manually. I look around for Iron Bull needing his strength, he is fighting off two Red Templars, I am on my own. I brace my hands at the widest part and push. The machine protests, it slowly turns. I hear Iron Bull yell from behind me.

“Boss, how are you doing that?” I can’t stop now. The machine clicks into place. Everyone has dispatched the current wave the next on its way. I don’t give them that chance. I hit the switch to fire the projectile.

It slams into the mountainside creating a chain reaction. Snow and rock rain down on the Red Templars, burying them. Those left start to cheer, but it is premature. I feel it before I hear it. Its sickly roar making me recoil, I finally see what dragon is making it. It is tattered and torn, diseased. This is no Dovah. A fireball slams into the trebuchet, destroying it, sending me flying. It did not shout, I can’t hear its soul. Something is wrong, very wrong. The souls inside me rage, I can’t get up. Through the pain I feel someone guide me, taking me back to Haven.

I regain myself in the Chantry, everyone has taken shelter there. I see the rude man for long ago lying on a pallet. Crimson staining his white tunic. Cullen notices my regained clarity.

“That dragon lost anytime you had gained us.” Cole is next to the bleeding man.

“I saw the arch demon. I was in the Fade but it did not look like that.”

“I don’t care what it looks like. It has created a path for that army.” Cullen is afraid. “It will destroy everything in its path.”

Cole speaks again.

“The Elder One doesn’t care about the village.” He turns to look at me. “He cares about her.”

“Herald there is no way to win this. The avalanche slowed them but there is no way out.”

“Chancellor Roderick wants to help.” The Chancellor struggles to speak.

“There is a path. You wouldn’t know it, unless you had made the summer pilgrimage, as I have.” He leans forward beckoning me. “The people can escape. She must have shown me, Andraste must have shown me, so I could tell you.”

It’s now or never. For once in a long time I am afraid, afraid of losing these people, afraid of what I know I must do. I turn to Cullen, wanting to savor these last moments of me just being the Herald.

“Cullen, lead the people through the escape route, I will buy you time.” He tries to speak but I cut him off. This may be my only chance to do this. I lean in and kiss him, his lips warm against mine. For a brief moment, I forget that an army is coming to destroy everything, for one second I allow myself that. I pull away, his face red along with mine. “Cullen, you said that Haven is no fortress. I can make it one just long enough for you all to escape. Take Talos with you and remember I have always been who I am.”

I dash out the gates before anyone can follow me. Time to unleash hell.

 

An army is waiting for me behind the gates. I turn my hands behind me, none shall pass through me, I cast wall of flame. I feel my eyes and teeth change unleashing my true self. I see the trebuchet through a throng of Red Templars. I let loose my fury.

“If you master wants my heard.” I bare my elongated teeth. “Come and claim it.”

The Red Templars swarm me. They stand no chance.

_“Yol Toor Shul.” **[1]**_ The closest Red Templars fall burned to ash. _“Su Grah Dun” **[2]**_

The shout increases my attack speed. My blades are a whirlwind of slashes, nothing is spared. A behemoth steps into my path. A dark smile graces my features, it feels so good to finally let go. The behemoth swings its lyrium encrusted arm down on me. I roll to dodge. I spy a sword lying a few feet away from me. The behemoth swings again as I dive for it. I run and jump onto its back burying the sword into it what remains of flesh. I spring off calling down a thunderbolt, it convulses as electricity runs through its body.

There are more and more Red Templars between me and the trebuchet.

_“Strun Bah Qo” **[3]** _ The heavens wrath rains down upon them, scattering them in its wake. I reach the trebuchet to be confronted by the dragon, if it can be called that. I try to reason with it as it flies around me. _“Dova. Zu’u los faal Dovahkiin. Zu’u hind ni wah krif” **[4]**_

I am met with no reply only shrieks and garbled roars. It is still coming at me. I have no choice.

_“Joor Zah Frul.”_  The creature plummets to the earth, causing explosions in its wake. I am monetarily dazed. From the smoke appears a figure. The Elder One. He is even more grotesque close up. His skin is pulled taunt against a skeletal frame. He hands are talons, spaces between where ribs were once now houses red lyrium. From his sternum erupts what was once a chest piece, ancient armor now fused to monstrous body.

The warped dragon has recovered and is at my back. It lets loose its horrible shriek to the moon. The creature once man speaks. His voice chills me to my very core.

“Enough.” He sends a red energy wave at me, shaking my footing. I stand resolute. “Pretender, you toy with forces beyond your keno more. Exalt the Elder One, the will that is Corypheus. You will kneel.”

My anger reaches its peak. Enough is enough. I am tired of being called a pretender, I pretend to be no one. I let this be known.

“Never.” I lace my voice with my Thu’um. “You are a pretender. Pretending to be a god when I know you are but a mortal that has accepted a dark pact. I faced many like you. I bow to no one. I am bane of the World Eater, conqueror of all Nirn, master of every guild, last born of Akitosh. I am the Dragonborn and I will not yield.”

I see the creature Corypheus take out an orb, its surface etched with swirling patterns. I know what it is. I have seen many artifacts like it, it is a focus of power. This creature is akin to a Deadric lord or at least a champion of one. I have had few pleasant encounters with those creatures. He is a world eater, I cannot go home now.

 He activates it making it crackle with red energy. He sends out another shockwave, this one knocks me off my feet. I am tired from all the shouting and fighting, my magika and stamina drained. I feel his evil energy seep into the mark on my hand, it burns. He marches to me with anger etched on his monstrous face. He reaches down dragging me up by my wrist.

“I would take back that which you have stolen but your stumbling has made it permanent.” He throws me into the trebuchet, I feel bruises form and bones crack. “I have seen the throne of the gods and it is empty. I will destroy and remake the world becoming the god this world deserves. I will not suffer a rival, you must die.”

On the mountaintop, I see the signal arrow. I have one last trick.

“You want to kill me? Do your worst.” I spit at Corypheus. I swing my sword with the last of my physical strength to trigger the trebuchet. With the last of my Thu’um I protect myself from the onslaught of ice and rock., I can only whisper the first word. _“Mul” **[5]**_

The only scales I will ever have aside from my dreams materialize. I see an opening and run for it. The avalanche batters me from all sides. Corypheus has left with his dragon. My shout wears off before I reach the crevice. The force of the slide pushes me down into the darkness.

Pain is the first feeling that returns to me, followed by cold. My nord blood only goes so far to keep me warm. I am in a cave that much I know. I try and sit up but pain floods my body, fire erupting from my chest. My ribs are cracked, maybe broken. I start to charge a healing spell but I have no magika and can’t regenerate more. Through sheer will I force myself up. My ankle throbs when I put any weight in it.

It is a slow and arduous journey; the cave soon turns to a system of old ruined tunnels. I come across a rift all the way down here. I have no strength to fight but somehow the mark opens a mini rift to counter the other one. I quickly seal it before any demons come through. After what seems like hours I find the exit. What greets me is a raging blizzard. I have no cloak to protect me but I must keep going forward.

The snow blind me to all but a few feet in front of me. The deadly cold air makes every breath hurt more than it already does. At least the snow has made my ankle numb, the rest of my body soon follows.

I come upon a cold campfire. I am on the right trail.

As I trudge through the snow I have time to think about what will come next. Will these people hail me as hero or monster? I can no longer hide what I am, the longer I wait the worse it will be.

Every step is agony. The cold may have numbed my body but my chest still burns from my broken bones. My eyes start to become heavy.

Moving takes so much effort now. I found two more campsites the last had warm coals. I can hear wolves close by.

Moving forward is all I can do from falling into the snow. I am nearing a small pass. My body is tired and heavy. I can’t move any more, I fall to the snow. My mind losing conciseness. I faintly hear voices shouting my name.

“She is over here.” The last thing I perceive are golden eyes looking down on me as I am lifted into strong arms. Then nothing.

 

 

 

[1] Fire Breath

[2] Elemental Fury

[3] Call Storm

[4]  Dragon. I am the dragonborn. I do not wish to fight.

[5] First word of Dragon Aspect


	20. Dawn's songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn and the Inquisition flee to the mountains to escape. The time is coming for the Dragonborn to reveal her true nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the song sung by Gwen is called Beauty of Dawn, it is a Elder Scrolls song. I though I should clarify how strong Gwen is, my thinking is that is she has the soul of a dragon she should have the strength of one, plus having legendary skills helps. If I have missed any lore please let me know and I will rectify it. Thank you for reading, leaving kudos and your support n the comment section. I own nothing.

Long has it been since my last good dream. Nightmares are my constant sleep companion, the green of the mark seeps into my psyche, tainting my dreams. The nightmares have plagued me from the time I accepted my mantle of Dragonborn, but never this frequent. I long for those care free days of my youth sometimes, before it all burned before me. Now my dreams center around disappointed and frightened eyes, cries of monster and heretic echo through the darkness.

Pain never pull me gently from sleep, it grasps me and drags me kicking and screaming to reality where I can feel that pain.

Everything burns, I know instantly that I have mild frostbite, each breath hurts clueing into the still broken ribs. I hear arguing outside, advisor, always the same.

I can feel that at least some of my magika is restored. The golden light of fast healing fills the tent I am sitting in. After my display, back in Haven my magika is no longer able to be hidden. I don’t have enough to completely heal myself. The ribs are still cracked, but no longer broken and my skin still burns but it does not impede me. After I am finished I can sit up. Mother Giselle chooses that moment to enter the tent

“You should be resting” Her accented voice gently admonishes me.

 “I would but the noise outside woke me.” Mother Giselle takes a seat.

“They have that luxury thanks to you.” I lower myself back down onto the pallet. “The enemy could not follow us. With time to doubt blame festers. Infighting may threaten us as much as this Corypheus.”

She gives me a knowing look.

“I can assume everyone saw what happened in Haven.” Mother Giselle nods. “Where are we?”

“We do not know, that might be why we have not been found.” We sit in silence save for the dwindling argument outside.

“I should have told them all long ago.” Mother Giselle says nothing. “If they are deciding what comes next I need to be there.”

I move to sit up but Mother Giselle’s hand gently pushes me down.

“One more heated voice will not help. Especially yours.” I once more lay back down. “Our leaders struggle because of what we witnessed. We saw our defender call down lighting from the havens and cause a dragon to bow to her. We saw you fall and return, your actions appear more and more miraculous, our trials near ordained. That is hard to accept.”

“I can’t argue against the influence of gods.” I let out a sigh. “Corypheus wanted to reshape the world, that is something I cannot allow. I have face those like him before. It will take more than hope to defeat him.”

I push myself off the bed ignore her soft look. I go to the edge of the tent, leaning on a support beam. Everyone has stopped arguing, silently sitting far from each other.

“Shadows fall, and hope has fled. Steel your heart the dawn will come.” Mother Giselle has begun singing. “The night is long and the bath is dark. Look to the sky for one day soon the dawn will come.”

Everyone in camp starts to sing. I do not know this song. I can feel moral rising as voice lift to the heavens.

From the sidelines, I see Cole sitting with Chancellor Roderick, finally at peace. Solas stands off to the side as well. The people gather around me starting to kneel. Cheers erupt when the song ends. Solas moves from his place at the fringes.

“A word.” I follow where he leads. The vale is barren covered in snow and ice. A solitary torch at the edge. Solas lights it with what is called veil fire, only blue. “A wise woman, her kind understand what can unite or fracture a cause. The orb.”

I cut him off.

“You once told me of ancient elven gods that were evil, the Forgotten Ones.” He nods recalling that conversation. “By now you know that I am not from this land. In my home we have similar stories, off false gods and evil beings. I have met many of these beings, we call them Deadra. The orb Corypheus had is similar to their artifacts, a focus of power is you will. It is not his, he is but a puppet. Is that along the lines of what you were going to tell me?”

“Yes, the orbs origin is elven in nature.” He looks downcast for a moment, almost fearful. “I fear what people will think when they learn of the orbs origin.”

“People will always fear what they do not understand.” Solas again merely nods. “The people of this lands are much like some where I am from, they fear magic, the power those who wield it possess. I share the same fear, what will people think when they learn of my origin. We shall face these questions together.”

I look out into the vast mountain range. The moons mere slivers in the sky, inky black covers any other light. The people’s song reminded me of a song from a time similar to this in my lands history. A song written about the Three Banners War. A common foe brought warring factions together. The outcome of it is not truly known but the song lyrics are comforting non-the less.

 “A serpent lights the ancient sky

A threat of tainted stars

Evil stirs and in its wake

The souls of mortal’s sway

 

Sorrow reigns

Over fields of red

Spirits pace

Through the shadows cast by their graves

 

These are days and nights of venom and blood

Heroes will rise as the anchors fall

Brave the strife, reclaim every soul

That belongs to the Beauty of Dawn.”

The wind carries the lyrics much like the crowds, only mine is solitary, darker in nature. The song ends as the first rays of dawn peak over the snowcapped mountains.

“By attacking the Inquisition Corypheus has changed it, and you.” Solas points to the horizon. “Scout to the north, be their guide. There is place that waits for a force to hold it. There is a place where the Inquisition can build and grow.”

Those words stick with me, trudging up mountains through snow. The Inquisition hanging on by threads. I scramble of rocks and cliffs. Cold nights spent scouting ahead. With the sun at our backs we scale the final hill, Solas at my side. There it is nestled on a mountain top.

“Skyhold.”


	21. Another Title

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn gains another title. Ancient lore is brought to light, along with truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much research was done with this chapter, the continent of Lyg makes sense. I am trying my best to reconcile the two lores this was the answer. Also more fluff with Cullen. Gwen has so many titles now, cannot wait for the Winter Ball introduction scene. Let me know if I have missed something. Thank you for reading, liking and commenting. I own nothing.

Skyhold is much like Solitude, high and defensible. The subject of what I did in Haven still has not been brought up. I see all four of my advisors whispering in a circle as I walk out from inspecting the walls. The castle has seen better days but with enough time and effort it can shine once more.

My advisors see me in the doorway, the stop all conversations. Cassandra motions me to them. They are up to something. I make my way over. Leliana, Cullen and Josephine scatter to different directs, leaving me with Cassandra. She motions around us. The courtyard is bursting with people, most I do not recognize.

“The arrive daily from every settlement in the region. Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage.” She clasps her hand behind her back, while beginning to walk backwards, I follow. She starts leading me up a set of stairs. “If word has reached these people, it has reached the Elder One. We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here. But this treat is beyond the one we anticipated. But we now know what drew Corypheus to you, and the things you can do.”

I look down sheepish. I really do have to talk about what happened.

“Your decisions and actions lead us safely out of Haven. You are that creatures rival.” We go up even more stairs., ending on a small platform. Leliana stands there holding a sword. “The Inquisition requires a leader. The one who has already been leading it. You.”

A crowd has gathered below the platform. I see no fear in their eyes-only admiration. I see Cullen towards the back, a small smile gracing his face. My fears are relieved if only slightly. I turn back to Cassandra slightly baffled.

“After all that you saw I did in Haven, you still choose me?”

“All of these people have their lives because of you.” She motions to the sword still in Leliana’s hands. “I won’t lie what you did is troubling and handing this power to anyone is troubling as well. But I believe that this is meant to be. The Inquisition would not be here without you. How you lead is up to you.”

I walk to Leliana gazing down at the ceremonial sword. I have more titles that I know what to do with, so many honors that they became meaningless. But these people have chosen me as their leader, despite seeing what I can do. For once I feel unworthy of the honor, every title has been earned but none given on trust and faith. It is humbling, my mind is made. I take the sword from Leliana’s hands, its hilt a coiled serpent.

“I will uphold my duty to destroy all world eaters.” All three of us turn to the crowd. Cassandra projects into the crowd.

“Have the people been told?” Josephine answers.

“They have, and soon the world.” Cassandra asks another question into the crowd.

“Commander will they follow?” Cullen in turns asks the people.

“Inquisition will you follow?” The crowd cheers. “Will you fight? Will we triumph? Your leader, your herald. Your Inquisitor.”

The roar of the crowd in near deafening level. Cullen raises his sword in allegiance. I lift mine to the sky in response. It seems I have found my destiny once more.

What is now becoming known as the inner circle heads to the interior of the keep. Dust and disuse has taken its toll. Now is a good a time as any. I shoo away any lingering guards and lead them all to the new war room.

“I can assume you all have some questions for me.” They all move to speak at once. I cut them off. “Let me tell the entirety of my story before questions please.”

I go on to tell them about who I am, I leave out the royalty part, politics would be too messy. I recount my titles and abilities. Various expressions cross everyone’s faces. At the mention of dragons Bull gets rather excited. Most become uncomfortable at the mention of magic. This is a good place to stop and clarify. Vivienne asks the first question.

“My dear how did you hide that you were a mage?” Right cause you can’t be a warrior and a mage.

“Were I am from, magic is a force of nature much like her. Only it flows through everyone and everything, whereas here only mages can use magic and you are limited by the Fade and the Veil.” Dorian looks intrigued.

“Does that mean it is like Tevinter? Everyone or nearly everyone is a mage?” I can see Solas lean in a fraction.

“Everyone can use magicka but not everyone is a mage.” I put out my palm and cast a bit of flames. Everyone steps back. “This is one of the most basic spells, everyone knows it and can use it. The more advance spells require more talent or study. Magic is used in day to day life, that spell is used for lighting fires.” I pause to let that set in. Solas asks the next question.

“You said that we are restricted by the Fade, does that mean there is no fade?” That one is tricky.

“No, not really. We have what is known as planes. There are two, the Aetherius or the afterlife, home of the gods, etc. It is where magicka comes from. Its twin is Oblivion a dark plane where vile and evil beings called Deadra reside, you might call them demons.” I stop for a moment to think, since my coming here I have devoured every piece of lore I have come across, a good chunk of it similar to our stories. “Many of your tales are like mine. The Old Gods of Tevinter and their worship, there was a time that happened in my homeland. Dragons were worshiped by my ancestors, but were cast down by them as well. For their treachery, the dragon priests were cursed with undeath, forever bound to this plane.”

Dorian is shocked by this revelation. Cullen who had been silent finally speaks.

“What did you do to that arch-demon to make it fall from the sky?”

“That gets me to what I truly am.” No one blinks. Leliana looks like she may be reaching for a dagger. “I am not a demon, I am Dovahkiin, Dragonborn. It means I have the soul and blood of a dragon but the physical form of a mortal. As to what I did, I shouted at it, meaning I commanded it to fall.”

Leliana interjects.

“It is said the witch Yavana was able to talk to a dragon.” She focuses her gaze on me. “Is that what you did?”

“Essentially. I spoke to it in the language of the dragons. From what little I have gathered about this continent, Dovahzul doesn’t exist.” I start to think about all the similarities between these two places, the ancient stories come to mind, I know this place. My eyes widen at this sudden insight. “I know where I am. This is the continent of Lyg.”

More confused looks.

“The ancient lore states that once Nirn, that’s what we call this place, was folded in half Tamriel my home left and imprint on the side it had touched. The continent of Lyg, forever its parallel, everything about the two were similar, but no one has gone there in centuries. It all makes sense now.”

The room is silent, even Varric whom I told my tale to previously is speechless. It is Sarah who breaks the silence.

“Bloody Hell.”  I have to sit after all this. “That’s just freaky.”

“My lady if what you are saying is true than you come from across the world.” Blackwall questions. “Across the Boric sea.”

“We must gather more knowledge about this.” Josephine starts writing on her tablet. “Inquisitor when you have moment please meet with me so we can discuss this.”

“I would be glad to meet with all of you privately if you have further questions.” The inner circle collectively nods. “One last thing. It is my duty to destroy world eater. I understand that my powers may seem otherworldly but be assured I control them not them me.”

Everyone is satisfied with this answer, if not still a little wary. Trust will take time.

 

Cleaning Skyhold takes days, repairs won’t start for another week. Cole was officially welcomed into the Inquisition abet apprehensively by most. Many did not know what he was and were afraid of that. I know what he is, compassion incarnate. He is neither human nor spirit, an amalgamation born out of compassion. I spent a few hours observing his comings and goings, often near the tent of healing. Many who made the journey out of Haven had been badly wounded, others became sick because of starvation and cold in the mountains. At any given time, there were those who lay dying waiting for their last moments, often in pain. Cole would approach those who needed release, he provided it. Others he would say are hurting on the inside and needed to be listened to. Every time he helped he made them forget him. He said it was better that way. Cassandra sis not trust him.

Inside Skyhold we found a vast library, near rivaling that of The College of Winterhold’s. Here I would be able to find what I needed to know to understand this land even further. My companions each found living quarters suited to them. Even Talos found a place, he is now fully grown, most days he doesn’t leave mine or Cullen’s side.

I finally get a chance to speak with Cullen, he is in the courtyard pouring over reports. He gives a weary sigh when approach.

“We set up the best we could at Haven, but nothing could have prepared us for an archdemon or whatever that was.” He returns to the papers. “If Corypheus strikes again we must be ready.”

“Cullen, I understand that the revelation of my abilities at Haven might have been unnerving.” He doesn’t look at me. “I know that I hid it from you, from everyone, I was afraid of how you might react. When you told me about the tower I was even more afraid. I care for you Cullen, I have never lied about that. I am not an apostate, I am the Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold, one of the most advanced mages in the land. As far as I am aware I am unable to be possessed, my soul and body are my own. Please don’t shut me out.”

He still doesn’t make eye contact. I sigh and turn to leave, his gloved hand taking hold of my wrist stops me.

“What you did at Haven shocked me, seeing you make a dragon bend to your will, it terrified me.” He takes my hands in his, worry in his golden eyes. I see clearly now the dark circles under his eyes the amount of stress he has been carrying. “But nothing terrified me more than seeing you lying in the snow barley breathing or the thought of losing you. You stayed behind, I won’t allow the events of Haven to happen again. I can’t.”

His voice is choked, I take my right hand and put to the side of his face. The stress of these past days melts from his face as he leans into my touch eyes closing. After a second or two he reopens his eyes, I smile softly. The moment is broken when a scout comes up to report finding about the surrounding area. I reluctantly let my hands drop, his return smile lets me know everything is alright and we shall talk later. Talos follows me as I continue my rounds of the hold.


	22. Fire-Breather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn meets Hawke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a while since I posted. I just started back at school. As always thank you for reading, liking and commenting.  
> I own nothing.

The Inquisition’s search for any information on Corypheus was coming up short, until Varric informed of someone else who had fought him

I have heard very little regarding this mysterious visitor, Cassandra had a dark near murderous look when Varric brought up this friend of his. I meet Varric on the eastern battlements to be introduced to this friend. Standing next to Varric is an armored woman, a staff strapped to her back. Across the bridge of her nose is red war paint haphazardly streaked on, her dark hair reaches her chin.

“Inquisitor meet Hawke, Campion of Kirkwall.” The lady, Hawke, nods in greeting. I mirror the greeting. “Hawke the Inquisitor, I figured you could give some advice about Corypheus.”

“Though I don’t go by the title of Champion much now.” I can understand that titles can cause many a headache. “Varric says you come from another land?”

I shoot Varric a pointed look, it was just recently revealed. He shrugs unapologetic. I turn back to Hawke.

“Yes, though I am sure Varric must have given you full detail.” Both smile sheepishly. Hawke crosses to the edge of the battlement.

“Lovely view, reminds me of my home in Kirkwall. I had a balcony that overlooked the entire city. I used to love it but after a while all I could see was all those people depending on me.”

I move to join leaning on the edge next to her.

“I can understand that, being able to see everything you can see how much you risk losing.” I lean back letting her have space. “Varric has informed me that you fought Corypheus before?”

“Fought and killed. The Grew Wardens were holding him but he used his drarkspawn influence to control them.” I have heard these terms before with now definitive answer.

“Excuse my interruption but what is a darkspawn?” Both Varric and Hawke are shocked by my question. Hawke answers with unease.

“Drarkspawn are corrupted creatures from beneath the earth. Every so often the come to the surface during what is known as a Blight. Do darkspawn not exist where you are from?” I try and think, having never seen a darkspawn it takes a moment.

“We have corruption yes but nothing like what you are saying. We do have creatures that dwell underground but they are not what you are describing. We do have events similar to blights in terms of chaos and destruction. But I have not researched it and cannot fully answer that question.” Both are still stunned. “Thank you for answering mine though.”

“Corypheus may have taken control of the Grey Wardens once more.” Hawke thinks for a moment. “I have a friend in the Wardens, he was investigating something unrelated for me. But then all the Grey Wardens started to disappear, I have heard very little from him. He recently sent a letter saying he would meet me in an old smugglers cave in Crestwood.”

“Whatever is going on we must put an end to it.” Talos decides to join us from Cullen’s offices on an opposite battlement. He wags his tail at Hawke. She smiles, kneeling to pet him. Her smile seems almost sad. “Lovely pup. I once had one like him. They are loyal to the end, that is very rare and precious. What is his name?”

“Talos after the god of war in my homeland.” Cullen has done well raising him, I wish I could have been there more often. “I found him abandoned in the woods. I know nothing about this breed and asked Commander Cullen to help me raise him. I think it gave the Commander a little taste of what life was once like, a taste of peace.”

I spend the next hour talking with Hawke about the events with Corypheus. We part ways planning on discussing Crestwood with the Council. I am passing the new barracks when shouts and bangs draw my attention.

I find Cassandra throwing furniture at Varric, her rage is palpable. She shoves him by the shoulder cornering him. Rage fills her voice.

“You knew where Hawke was all along!” Varric pushes her back.

“You’re damned right I did.” Cassandra scowls.

“You conniving little shit.” She takes a swing at him, but it is sloppy. Varric easily dodges it. Varric runs around to the other side of a table, keeping space between him and Cassandra, and her rage.

“You kidnapped me! You interrogated me! What did you expect?” Varric does have a point. I look between the two, this could get very ugly very fast.

“Enough.” Cassandra starts to object. “Now.”

Cassandra is still seething.

“We needed someone to lead the Inquisition. First, we looked for the Hero of Fereldan but she had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke but she too was gone. Leliana and I though it connected.” Cassandra sets her death glare on Varric once more. “But no. It was just you. You kept him from us.”

“The Inquisition has a leader.” Varric motions to me. Cassandra isn’t giving up.

“Hawke would have been at the Conclave, if anyone could have saved the most holy.” I stop he right there.

“What if she had been there and had not saved her, what then. She would have died like everyone else. Corypheus might have gone through with what he was planning. Do not blame Varric for what happened.” I place my hands on the table in front of me, my head hung low. I take a deep breath.

“I was protecting my friend.” Cassandra won’t let it go.

“Varric is a liar, Inquisitor. A snake.” Her words make me shake with anger. “Even after the conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept her secret.”

“She is here now, we are all on the same side.” I can almost hear Cassandra snarl.

“We all know who’s side you are on Varric and it was never the Inquisition.” My anger reaches the boiling point. The table splits under the force of my hands. Both of them immediately silence.

“It was never Hawke’s job. No one ever thinks of the life a hero lead before the quest.” My hands clench at my sides. “Dwelling on what could have been brings us no closer to stopping Corypheus. Varric lied to protect a friend, a friend who has had so much taken from her.”

Neither of them look at me or each other.

“Varric leave me with Cassandra please.” Varric leaves by the stairs.

“I believed him, he spun his tales and I believed him.” Cassandra sinks into a chair. “If I had just followed my instincts, maybe the Maker would not have had the need to send you.”

Her voice is self-deprecating and defeated. I sit in the chair opposite hers.

“Cassandra, I have waged many wars and fought many foes. Sometimes we think about what we could have done differently. But we must always remember to stay in the now, helping those who need us.”

“I have no regrets.” She gives a faint smile.

“Neither do I, my friend.” I leave her in peace.

I need a drink. A new tavern called ‘Herald’s Rest’ had been set up, I decide to visit it. Taverns are the same no matter where you go. Poor quality drink and not much better food. I may have to start importing Blackbriar Mead or Argonian Fire whisky. Anything is better than what they have here. Iron Bull sees me at the bar and waves me over to where the Chargers were drinking.

“Inquisitor, thanks for joining us.” The Chargers raise their tankers in recognition. “So, Inquisitor you’re a dragon.”

Ah yes, I had momentarily forgotten Bull’s shall we say fascination with dragons. I give a wide smile letting my elongated teeth show, one of the few physical signs of my blood.

“In blood and soul only, Bull.” I take a swig of the swill in my cup.

“Does that mean you can breathe fire?” The company looks on expectantly. I roll my eyes, of course that would be the first thing he asks.

“I can.” Bull clamors to my side. I look around at the rest of the tavern, everyone listening in to the conversation. Hearing one say they can breathe fire has that affect.

“That is awesome.” He slaps my back popping a few vertebrae. “Can you do it right now?”

Everyone is waiting for my answer. I had hoped to keep all this a little more under wrap, so much for that. Might as well own it.

“Why not. We have to go outside for it though.” Chairs are scrapped against the floor and tankards left half full. I don’t bother finishing mine either.

A small crowd has gathered in the courtyard outside the tavern, word spread quickly. With this many people, I have to go up on battlements as to not inadvertently hurt anyone. In the time, it takes me to reach the top the small crowd has grown into nearly everyone in Skyhold. I breath in once centering myself.

_“Yol Toor Shul.”_ The familiar power of the shout rips through my throat. The flames lick the frosted mountain air, vapor haloing around it. The crowd goes wild, Bull especially. His eyes are filled with adoration and something else. I give a mock bow, by tomorrow everyone from Denirim to Orlais will know that the Inquisitor breaths fire.

Josephine is scandalized when she hears about my performance, her ranting goes on for some time.

“I cannot believe that you did that.” She paces while lecturing me. “Foreign dignitaries saw that. What is everyone going to say?”

She gives a defeated sigh, plopping rather ungracefully into her chair.

“Josephine, I have spent enough time hiding who I am. If people don’t like it, well what are they going to do about it.” This only causes her to bury her face further into her hands. “I have nothing to be ashamed off, this is me, I have explained this. But I will try to keep the fire breathing to a minimum in public, for your sanity’s sake.”

“We do not have time to be dealing with this. The winter ball is only a few months away and we have not been able to procure an invitation. You breathing fire does not help in that matter.” She looks up for the first-time glancing at some papers on her desk. “Also, we have received rumors of a mysterious emperor from across the sea that shall be attending. Dozens of rumors are flying through the courts about this land across the sea. Your land if I recall correct.”

She turns an accusatory look to me.

‘Oh crap.’ Thank Talos for speech skills.

“I know about as much as you do. The Emperor waged a decade plus long campaign to bring the entire continent under one banner. A golden age has been ushered in.” This is the truth, as I have not heard the rumors being spread about, well me. “The Emperor is said to wear a horned crown with armor made from dragons the Emperor has killed. Much of the Emperors personal life before taking the crown is speculation, some say mercenary others say assassin.”

I leave Josephine to her speculations about the ruler of Tamriel. Walking out the do I notice Leliana watching me from the shadows.

 

 


	23. Crestwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn travels to Crestwood to meet the Grey Warden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I know I haven't posted in a long time, it has been super busy in my life. I tried to make this chapter a tad longer to make up for it. Side note I may start to diverge from the plot line of the game and add some more elements of Skyrim. Thank you to all those who have stuck with me, thank you for liking and commenting.

Reports from all over Tamriel flooded in as more rumors about the newly found continent of Lyg circulated. This led to many late nights pouring over not only Inquisitorial duties but royal duties. Cole often visited me while I worked, he didn’t need sleep like mortals did. His insight into people’s minds became invaluable. He was drawn to me as well, Cole often asked why there were so many voices in my mind. I once let him freely enter, to explain why there were so many. I felt him recoil when he found Alduin’s prison.

“Rage. Destruction. Hatred. They should all worship me.” Cole speaks what he felt from Alduin. “Who is he?”

“In a way, he is my brother. He was the first of the dragons and I am the Last Dragonborn.” Cole still looks confused.

“Why does he hate so much.” I sigh but relent Cole could not know the history behind us.

“He was once worshipped as a god, destined to eat the world. I am destined to stop him. He wanted to bring back all those that followed him, enslaving all mortals. I came between him and that goal. That is why I have those voices. They are the souls of my own brethren, I killed them and devoured them.” I slump in my chair. Cole slips behind me to awkwardly embrace me.

“They do not hate you. Through your eyes they experienced the life of a mortal and showed them all that they had never known. They forgave you long ago.”

I feel him dissipate unconformable with physical touch.

“Thank you for the company Cole.” I return to my work.

It is well into the wee hours of the night when I reach the last missive. It is from the Brotherhood. Stating that a contract had been taken out on my head. Not from them, but a group called the Antiavian Crows. Nazir warns me to be vigilant and that Cicero misses me. I decide it is time for bed. I blow out the last candle.

 

The sound of alarm bells ring throughout the fortress waking everyone. A lone figure sneaks in through the balcony, impressive, but it’s not enough. It has been a long time since someone hired an assassin on me. My involvement with The Dark Brotherhood was always speculated upon, yet everyone knew deep down they were truths. After about two dozen early attempts The Brotherhood flat out refused to take the job. Back to the assassin at hand, I do not kill any of the family be this one is not family.

The assassin sneaks to my bed, intent on ending my life. The strike is precise and lethal, but ultimately useless on a pillow. I cross the room silently, ending right behind the would-be killer.

“You are going to have to do better than that, if you want to kill a child of darkness.” The assassin jumps back in alarm. I can’t see his face very well, due to the dying fire and a mask.

“How.” He does not get to finish the sentence. Cullen bursts into the room, sword drawn. The entire inner circle behind him. I whisper one last thing to the assassin before he flees.

“Hail Sithis.” The assassin wastes no time dropping a smoke bomb, disappearing into the confusion.

Leliana is the first to speak.

“Inquisitor are you, all right?” She glances at the bed, my pillow bleeding feathers, then at me to my calm face. “What happened?”

“Someone put a contract on my life and tried to take it.” I reply with honesty, she doesn’t buy it.

“That is not what I meant.” The majority of my inner circle has left now that the threat has been neutralized. Most likely trotting back to bed in hopes of more sleep. Cullen is reluctant to leave, but does so with my nod of ‘I am fine’. “Now what really happened?”

“I am an assassin.” I put in the most plain of terms, no use in lying to a spymaster. “A pretty darn good one at that. I got paid to kill people, now I just tell others in the Brotherhood whom to kill.”

Leliana takes a step back eyes unreadable.

“How can we trust you?” Of course.

“There is no reason to kill you. Why would I kill family, besides its been years since I took a contract.” Leliana still eyed me warily. “Really, after all you have learned about me is it that hard to believe I am a trained assassin?”

“I guess not.” She turns to the balcony. “Do you know who tried to kill you?”

“I received a message telling me the Antivan Crows had been contracted to kill me.” Leliana took the news well and contemplated. “We can discuss further actions in the morning for now we all need rest.”

Leliana nods leaving me with the dying embers.

“Lucien.” Lucien materializes at my summons.

“My Listener.”

“Tell Nazir to gather information on the Antivan Crows. It is obvious they do not live by Tenets. Perhaps we can make contact.” Lucien bowed already dematerializing.

“Thy will be done.”

 

News of the attempt on my life spread like wildfire through the hold. Letters came pouring in from allies offering to help keep me safe. Cassandra and Cullen had both demanded at least three extra guards be posted outside my chamber doors. Cullen went so far as to escort me around Skyhold. How sweet, and annoying, but it made him feel better. By the end of the week I was going stir crazy, I had to get out of Skyhold. Finally, preparations for the Journey to Crestwood were finished. Preliminary reports of the conditions there were not promising, some said the dead were rising from the lake.

 

Rain, why did always have to be rain. After the events of the Storm Coast I have come to detest the rain here. It only spells trouble. I contemplated using clear storm but chose better as to not draw further unwanted attention. Scout Harding greets us per-usual.

“Good to see you safe Inquisitor. I was glad to hear that you were unharmed in the assassination attempt. I am afraid that there is more trouble ahead.” She motions for me to follow her, looking out onto the tumultuous lake. In the center is a massive rift, only it isn’t on the surface, no the sickly green glow is coming up from under the water.

“Oblivion take me.” Scout Harding continues.

“Crestwood flooded ten years ago during the last blight. This is not the only rift in the area, but after this one opened up, the dead started to walk out of the lake.” This just gets better and better. “You will have to fight through hordes of them to get to the smuggler’s cave. Good luck and be safe.”

“Bring it on.” I draw one of the few Deadric artifact I don’t keep under lock and key, Dawnbreaker. I would use Auri-El’s bow but the rain makes accuracy near impassible. Dawnbreaker glistens even in the rain.

“Boss why is your sword glowing?” Bull refused to be left behind on this trip, he claimed that I needed more muscle, truthfully, he wanted to be there in case I used another shout. Varric as well insisted on coming with me, he had a valid reason, Hawke. I see a dragur shamble in our direction.

“Wait and see Bull.” I swing with Dawnbreaker letting Merida’s enchantment hit the undead creature. It explodes in seconds. “That is why my sword is glowing.”

The entire party is stunned. Dorian asks me if I have any involvement with necromancy.

“No, I abhor the practice. I find it disrespectful to the dead and exceedingly dangerous to the living. The corpses raised have no soul and therefore no emotion or thought, mindless. They will kill anyone and anything. Plus, necromancers are a pain to clean out, they constantly use the bodies of their colleagues as weapons. The practice isn’t banned per say, rather its distasteful, anyone caught using humans long or fresh dead is dealt with harshly.” Dorian takes my answer with a nod and doesn’t press the subject further.

The legions of the dead are thick and hard to see in the constant deluge. Dawnbreaker helps clear a path, while the rest keep the stragglers away. We save an elven woman from a small group of them. She wants to join the Inquisition, I decline her offer stating that she needs to make sure her family is safe. We pass by two Grey Wardens on the way to the village, one asks if we had seen another Grey Warden. They were looking for our contact. The mayor of Crestwood greets us with relief and hesitance. He says that the only way to get to the giant rift in the lake would be to rain it. Unfortunately, he says that a band or raiders have set up in the fortress leading to the dam. Next item on the docket. Dawnbreaker’s charge is getting low by the time we reach the smugglers cave, I do not have a large enough soul gem to fully recharge, only two petty ones. For now, I can rely on sun fire and Stendarr’s Aura. Hawke meets us outside the cave, I established a camp near it for strategic purposes.

The cave has obvious signs of previous smuggler activity, but many things have dust on them. Unlike the caves of Skyrim this one is made of limestone. I look around in awe of the numerous columns and stalagmites. I hear a sword being drawn behind me.

There stands a Grey Warden, traditional blue and silver armor, his hair is jet black with a bushy mustache to match. He continues to point his sword at me. Hawke comes around the column and reassures him.

“It’s just us, I brought the Inquisitor.” The Warden lowers his word at Hawke’s words.

“My name is Stroud and I am at your service Inquisitor.” He sheaths his sword looking slightly apologetic. His accent is Orlesian from what I can tell. “I apologize for my conduct.”

“No apologize need Warden Stroud, I would have done the same.” We all cross to a small table toward the back of the cave. “I am eager to gain new allies but I must confess that the information you possess is of the utmost importance as well. I have heard about the trouble currently plaguing the order, I can only wonder if Corypheus is behind it.” Stroud nods in agreement.

“I fear it is so. After Hawke slew him Weisshaupt was happy to let the matter settle. But an archdemon can survive wounds thought to be fatal and I fear Corypheus possess that same ability. My investigation gave me clues not proof, but then all the Wardens in Orlais started to hear The Calling.” I am puzzled by that term.

“What is this ‘Calling’?” Stroud answers.

“It is when the taint in a Grey Warden starts overcome them. The Grey Wardens descend into the deep roads to die fighting dark spawn.” Stroud continues from that. “It starts with dreams, then whispers.”

Hawke interjects at this.

“And every Grey Warden in Orlais is hearing that at the same time? They think they are dying?” Stroud give a sad confirmation.

“Yes, likely because of Corypheus.” Stroud has distressed tone. “If the Wardens fall, who will stand against the next Blight? That is our greatest fear.”

“So Corypheus isn’t controlling them. He is bluffing them with this calling and they are falling for it.” Hawke grinds out.

“The Wardens are scared Hawke; wouldn’t you be if you thought you were dying?” I turn to Shroud. I can see exhaustion in his eyes. “You can feel it, can’t you? The Calling?”

“Sadly yes, it prowls like a hungry wolf just outside the light of the campfire.” I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We are the only ones who can defeat arch-demons. We are the world’s only defense against the Blight. Warden Commander Clarel spoke of a blood magic ritual that would prevent future blights before we perish. When I protested the plans madness my own comrade turned on me. The Grey Wardens are gathering in the Western Approach at an ancient Tevinter ritual tower, maybe there we shall find some answers.”

Stroud goes back to the documents on the table. We leave Hawke with him to make sure he is kept safe. Our next pressing matter is the walking dead and a giant rift where we can’t get to it.

The Fortress of Caer Bronach looms dark against an already dark sky. The place is teeming with bandits and raiders all hungry for blood and gold. I have Iron Bull smash the door down with a single well-placed kick. All of them are scurrying around like skeevers. I know my team is tired from fighting all the dead. I ground my stance and motion them to stay behind I shout to Dorian over the rain.

“Dorian on my count let loose all the lighting you can.” Dorian hears me and whips his head around.

“Are you crazy that could fry us all.” I give a feral grin. I start to charge the spell.

“Now!” Dorian flinches but does what I ask. The affect is instantaneous. Lighting storm throws all the bandits back while Dorians chain lighting finishes them off. The water amplifies its power. Only one left, the boss.

The boss if tougher than the rest of his group but still no match for us. Iron Bull delivers the final blow, taking the bosses axe for himself. With the battle done we claim the fortress for the Inquisition. The rain has really started to become bothersome as we cross the dam.

“Lok.[1]” The rain lets up from a downpour to a sprinkle. Iron Bull grins at my use of a shout.

“You have to tell me how you do that boss.” Iron Bull slaps me on the back.

“Maybe one-day Bull.”

We cross the dam to an old tavern contains the lock controls. Inside we are greeted with yet another surprise. A pair of young lovers trying to find a moment in this chaotic world. We send them on their way promising not to tell their parents. The dam lock is rusted over and nearly impossible to open, a few good hits with the hilt of Bull’s new axe loosens it just enough. The thunderous sound of rushing water fills the tavern.

The remains of old Crestwood give me an uneasy feeling as we pass through them to the cave the mayor told u about. The dead continue to rise. Instead of fighting all of them I cast Stendarr’s Aura on everyone so we can get to the rift faster, it doesn’t kill them but it keeps them far enough away. The Rift poses not much problem once we reach it, about five waves of demons come through, it is still exhausting work. We stay and extra week to help the people of Crestwood, the mayor had fled after revealing it was him that flooded old Crestwood. I send up prayers to Arkay and Kynareth to receive the spirits of those who were lost. I will be glad to return to Skyhold, I am also starting to miss home.

 

 

 

[1] Clear Skies first word: Sky


	24. Past Revalations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Dagna. A bit of Gwen's backstory is given along with some Cullen fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, been super busy lately and have been sitting on this chapter for some time. I put a bit of Gwen's backstory into this chapter. I am trying to get away from word for word verbatim of the plot. Thank you to all those who have liked, commented and left kudos. As always I own nothing.

Leliana has some news waiting for me once we return to Skyhold. In my absence she had requisitioned an arcanist for Inquisition use. She clarified that an arcanist was a master of enchantments. I decided to investigate, my items need charging anyhow.

Harrit greets me in the Undercroft, he does not look too pleased.

“I take it the arcanist has arrived?” He gives a humph and crosses his arm.

“See for yourself.” He proceeds to leave.

I look around but see no enchanting table just a very creepy looking bust on a table.

“You must be the Inquisitor!” I spin around and look down. A female dwarf gives a small shy wave. She has brown hair and dark eyes. “I’m Dagna your new arcanist.”

“A pleasure Dagna.” I extend my hand in greeting. “We are quite pleased to have you. I know I am. A few of my items are running low on magical charge and I was wondering if you had any spare soul gems I could borrow, I only brought five and have not had the time to refill them.”

Dagna gives a confused look.

“I am afraid I do not know what soul gems are. I didn’t think that items could lose their enchantment.” Well that puts a damper on things. “If you show me what you mean I may be able to better help.”

I reach into my pocket brining out a common soul gem, it is my last filled one. I keep this one filled at all time to make sure my Bow of Soul Snare is charged. Dagna takes the gem in hand and gazes upon it fascinated.

“Amazing, you are saying a soul goes into this? How does that work?” I should have known that even this magic would be different.

“In order to enchant something, you must pay with a soul.” Dagna looks horrified at the mention of using a soul. “Not a human soul, no, most times it is from an animal. The size of the animal determines the soul size. The largest soul is a ‘Grand’ soul. Mammoths are the most common.”

“Wow, we don’t have anything like that here. How do you get the souls?” I bring out my bow, it crackles with the purple energy of the spell.

“It has an enchantment called soul trap on it. It can be either a spell or an enchantment. Once the target dies if I have one of those gems, the soul fills the gem. I use it to either enchant or recharge, then repeat.” Dagna gingerly takes the bow examining it.

“Can you demonstrate?” We walk out into the icy tundra outside Sky hold’s walls. Goats have been seen wandering around time to time. It doesn’t take long to find one.

I draw back the bow letting loose a perfectly aimed arrow. The spell takes immediate effect, the purple tendrils of the goat’s soul surround the gem in Dagna’s hand. No sense in wasting a perfectly good goat, I heft the thing over my shoulder to take back to Skyhold.

Returning to the Undercroft I recharge Dawnbreaker with the common soul gem, Dagna utterly fascinated by the entire process. We spend the next few hours discussing enchanting and the similarities and differences between ours. Vivienne, Dorian and Solas join us after some time asking me questions about magic in Tamriel.

“Fascinating, that there are no circles. How do you keep the magic in check?” Dorian muses.

“We have guilds that regulate its members though no one is forced to be a member of a guild. One of the largest ones is one in my homeland of Skyrim, the College of Winterhold. There are two others that came from the former Mages guild, The College of Whispers and the Synod.” Vivienne makes a face of displeasure. “As to how it is kept in check, I do that along with help from the Psijic Order.”

“What do you mean when you say you keep it in check?” Solas inquires voicing everyone’s thought.

“I am the Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold as well as liaison to the Psijic Order.” Every mage in the room is stunned.

“My dear, however did you manage to gain that position?” I have all their attention.

“When I was a student at the college I stumbled upon an immensely powerful artifact in some ruins. One thing lead to another and I became the Arch-Mage of the College.” I see Solas’ eyes widen a fraction at the mention of The Eye of Magnus.

“You simply must train with us one day.” Dorian pleads. “I am dying to see your magic up close.”

“One-day Dorian.” We all leave the Undercroft for dinner. Solas stops me before we both enter the great hall.

“Inquisitor, if I may ask you to join me in the rotunda later this evening I would like to speak to you further about your land.”

“Of course, Solas.”

 

Dinner is as usual a rowdy affair. I sit at the head table along with my advisors and any visiting dignitaries. Some noble from Orlais starts prattling on about the Winter Ball in a few months.

“Will you be attending the Winter Ball Inquisitor?” I swallow my food before answering.

“I would not miss it for the world.” I smile politely, I would love nothing more than to say no but alas.

“I have heard the most peculiar rumors that there is a land far across the sea. A land filled with frightening monsters. They say that a fearsome emperor rules the land, that this ruler looks like a dragon. I could go on and on with the rumors and stories I have heard but some are not appropriate for dinner.”

‘How interesting’ Another noble from Fereldan speaks up.

“I heard that Empress Celine invited this Dragon Emperor to the Winter Ball.” A murmur goes through the table. “Word is that they sent back a yes.”

The rest of dinner continues in a similar manner rumors and more rumors. The Ball is only three months away, it is time to prepare for my grand unveiling.

 

Solas greets me in the rotunda after dinner, I take a few seconds to admire his murals. Since we arrived in Skyhold he has recorded all that has happened on the walls of the rotunda.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Inquisitor.” We take a seat in the chairs situated at the wall.

“Of course, what would you like to know about my home?”

“Tell about the elves. I know you spoke briefly about them before but that was before.” I nod settling further into the chair.

“All elves or Mer as they are known collectively started from the Aldmer or the ‘First Ones’. The Aldmer were descendants of the Ehlnofey the ‘Earth Bones’. The Ehlnofey are the ancestors of both man and mer but back to the Mer. From the Aldmer came the Altmer, Bosmer, Orsimer, Dunmer, Dwemer, Chimer, Snow Elves, Ayleid and Falmer.” I stop talking to allow Solas time to process all that I have said.

“So many...” Solas leans back.

“The Falmer and Snow Elves are technically one but not really. Also, there are the Maormer but they do not reside in my homeland. I could go on for hours about the history of the elves but I will focus more on present-day elves.” Solas nods for me to continue. “The Altmer or High Elves live in the Summerset Iles, the Altmer used to rule what was known as the Aldmeri Dominion.”

“What is the Aldmeri Dominion.” I give a heavy sigh, this being among my least favorite subjects.

“The Third Aldmeri Dominion or the Aldmeri Dominion was a group of radical nationalists Altmer who claimed that Mer had supremacy over the races of man. There were known for their intolerance of the Nordic practice of Hero Worship, they were governed by the Thalmor. The Thalmor were ruthless and cruel to any found practicing the worship of Talos.” I clench my fists in an attempt to control my emotions. The scars from the Thalmor may have faded but they still sting.

“What happened to the Aldmeri Dominion?” Solas seems distressed at my revelation of elven prosecution of humans.

“The Emperor destroyed them. The Emperor knew that if they were not defeated once and for all the war would go on for many more years. The Emperor did offer leniency to those who surrendered but none did.” I can still remember that battle, it was one of the few that had truly personal reasons behind it. “But not all elves in my homeland are like that, many are decent people just trying to live life. I have many friends who are from varying races. Humans have also been their share of racist. A Jarl named Ulfric Stormcloak waged a civil war in the hopes of kicking out all those who not Nords, mainly elves.”

“From your words I can gather you had an encounter with this Thalmor at some point.” Solas is taking everything I am saying surprisingly well.

“Yes, before I was born the Aldmeri Dominion started a war called the Great War that lasted 4 years. My father fought in that war alongside Ulfric Stormcloak. The war ended with the signing of The White-Gold Concordant, my father returned to Skyrim and married my mother. After the Markarth Incident the Thalmor started to hunt down Talos worshipers, people like my father and mother. I was only 6 when the Thalmor found out about my family’s practices, they dragged us from our beds and burned our farm. My father tried to fight but they burned him too.” I take a few second to compose myself, I had not spoken about my family for many years.

“They took my mother and I to interrogate us. Mother lasted two months before she broke down and confessed, she was burned at the stake for heresy. I was held for a year, I was too young to understand what they were asking. Then one day I escaped, I don’t remember how I just remember crying in the snow. I made my way to Windhelm, I was given shelter by Ulfric. I traveled with him when I came of age, I was so blinded by my anger and hurt that I destroyed innocent lives to exact my revenge.”

I look down in shame. How I wish I could take it all back. I still see their faces, Balgruuf’s disappointed gaze haunts my dreams, the screams of civilians as their home burned. I could not see that what Ulfric was doing was no better than the Dominion. I feel a hand placed on my shoulder. I lift my head and look at Solas.

“I can understand the pain of having all that you have known torn from you, the rage that accompanies it.” I can see the pain of past hurts in his eyes as well.

“I wish I could take it all back. I spent years trying to atone for my sins.”

“I have that same wish for my sins as well.” Solas lets his hand rest on my shoulder for a second more before moving back to his seat. “Perhaps you could tell me more about the other elves.”

“Gladly.”

 

The dawn comes all too soon. Like most mornings I am tired, I stayed up late replying to missives from home. All is as it should be, Nazir says that they have yet to make contact with Crows. Brynjolf reports that they have managed to create a connection with a smuggling group called the Carta her in Thedas. I received a letter from Felix assuring me of his safe journey and his arrival in Whiterun. He informed me that his illness has lessened and with enough time will disappear altogether. I saved the last one for Dorian.

While I had been in Crestwood Josephine had requisitioned some repairs to Skyhold, including a courtyard. With it came spots to garden. I spend the early morning planting ingredients I had brought from Skyrim. Just a few basic ones such as Imp Stool, Blisterwort, Blue Mountain Flower and Wheat. I did plant a few poisonous ones in a shady corner. I was well into midday when Cullen approached me.

“Inquisitor might I have a moment of your time.” He looks down bashful. Talos is with him and bounds over when he sees me, I have a feeling that Talos prefers Cullen. “Alone.”

Cullen leads me to the battlements, he seems nervous.

“Nice weather today.” He stutters out.

“Cullen, you didn’t bring me up here just to talk about the weather, did you?” I gently tease. He blushes and rubs the back of his head.

“Well no. I just can’t help but keep thinking about.” He stops there.

“Thinking about what Cullen?”

“In Haven when you kissed me. You are the Inquisitor, a terrifying dragon warrior from across the sea. We are at war and yet I still.” He again trails off.

“Cullen.” He stops me before I can finish by cupping the back of my head bringing his lips to mine.

Time stands still. I can feel the rough stone of the walls digging into my back and the stinging wind whipping around me, but I don’t care. The only thing that exists right now is me and Cullen. The same warmth from the first kiss fill this one as well. Everything is perfect.

Then it is ruined.

“Commander.” Cullen breaks away all too soon for my taste. “You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report.”

Cullen turns angrily towards the agent.

“What?” He grinds out.

“Sister Leliana’s report. You wanted it without delay.” The agent sees how mad Cullen is then sees me with an equally if not more angry expression. I say one word.

“Leave.” The agent doesn’t need telling twice. Once he is gone I turn my attention back to Cullen. “Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Cullen’s lips break into a smirk.

 


	25. Sand and Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen travels to the Western Approach and helps Cullen find peace.

If there is one thing I hate more than a constant deluge of rain, its sand. The stuff gets everywhere and I do mean everywhere. I found the nasty gritty substance in some unmentionable places after I fell down a sand dune. Vivienne agrees with me, she also complains what the sun is doing to her skin. I am unused to the heat as well, being from a land where half of it is covered with perpetual ice and all. Bull is almost worse. After the first day of trekking through this Oblivion forsaken place he got sunburned, do not know how just happened. His normally grey skin was now tinged pink. Varric is uncharacteristically silent but I know that he is writing down everything, and not in a pretty light. After two blistering days we reach the Ancient Ritual Tower Stroud told us about.

There is a foul magic in the air as we approach. Hawke and Stroud are waiting for us.

“Inquisitor I am glad you made it here safely, I am afraid that they have already started the ritual.” Stout is distressed.

“It is blood magic, we must stop it before more people get hurt.” Hawke informs us. “Inquisitor take point, I will follow behind.”

 

The tower is old and nearly crumbling, parts of it have already been reclaimed by the sea of sand. There are bodies of Grey Wardens carelessly tossed to the side.  Two wardens flank a third trembling warden, one is charging a spell. The warden in the middle backs away out of fright trying to resist whatever they are about to do. At the top of the stairs stands a man with shiny black hair pulled into a ponytail.

“You dare defy Warden Commander Clarel’s orders?” The frightened warden turns to him.

“This is wrong.” None of the other wardens seem fazed by what is going on around them.

“Do not forget the oat you took. In war victory, in peace vigilance, in death.” I see another warden come up from the behind and plunge a dagger into his comrades back. “Sacrifice.”

The fallen blood swirls, writing into patterns until finally erupting into flames. From the flames come a demon. The Warden releases the charged spell.

“Good now bind it.” The man instructs. As the warden does so he too casts a spell. I have seen enough. I march forward, this man is playing with dangerous forces. He sneers when he sees me.

“Inquisitor, what an unexpected pleasure. Lord Livius Erimond of Virantium, at your service.” He gives a mock bow.

“You are not a Warden.”  Stroud is furious.

“Ah the one Clarel let slip.” Lord Erimond nods in my direction as he paces. “You found the Inquisitor and came to stop me hmm. Let us see how that goes.”

“Yes, lets.” We ready ourselves for battle. They all move in unison.

“Corypheus is controlling them.” Stroud cries out.

“The calling had them all terrified they looked everywhere for help. They did this to themselves.” Lord Erimond clarifies.

“Even in Tevinter.” Stroud grinds out.

“Yes, we in the Venatori were glad to offer assistance since it was my master who put the calling into their heads.” Now he is starting to monologue. “With Clarel we came up with a plan. Raise a demon army, march into the deep roads and kill the old gods.”

“A demon army Corypheus controls no doubt.” I can see through that plan. Something is vaguely familiar about an invading demon army.

Lord Erimond is taken aback.

“You knew? Well no matter, sadly the warden mages are now under my master’s control. A little side effect of the binding ritual.” Again, with the monologuing. “This was but the first test. Once everyone warden completes the ritual my master’s army will march over and conquer Thedas. Once the Elder One becomes a god and ascends to the golden city we the Venatori will be his god-kings here.”

“Spare me, demons and a fade rift can’t stop me.” Lord Erimond bares his teeth.

“My master told me about what you did at Haven but he also told me what he did to you.” Lord Erimond charges an unknown spell. My left-hand flares to life as the mark starts to destabilize. The pain in white hot forcing me to my knees. “The Elder One showed me how to deal with you. Because you took the Anchor which allows travel through the Fade, my master has been forced to find other ways into the Fade.”

Now I am getting angry. I call upon my magika to quell the mark.

“You may be able to control the mark but you can’t control me.” I stand eyes blazing with dragon fire. I thrust my hand out and close the rift sending Lord Erimond flying.

“Kill them.” As the wardens and their bound demons start to surround us I have a theory I want to try.

I charge the spell letting the purple tendrils snake across my hand. I release it and the affect is instant, all the demons stop. The wardens keep coming at us but a quick calm spell fixes that.

Stroud comes up to me.

“What did you do?” Motioning to the demons. Bull used the time that wardens were not fighting to bind them.

“I cast a command Deadra spell.” Stroud gives a look at the word Deadra. “Deadra are my home’s version of demons. I had a theory that if they could be summoned maybe I could either control them or send them back.”

“Send them back?” Hawke comes over to us after helping tie up the wardens. “How can you send them back?”

“Simple, I cast banish or expel Deadra.” I charge the lesser of the two and aim it at the first demon. The demon writs in pain as it is sent back to the Fade. I repeat the process with all the rest.

“Why did you do that before?” Varric inquires.

“The Deadra or creature has to be summoned for it to work. All the others came into reality by different means.” Vivienne approaches the bound wardens to see if she can free them.

“My dear we shall discuss this new-found power at a later date, right now we need to help these wardens.” I join her in her endeavor.

The wardens blankly star at us with hazy red eyes. I raise my hand and wave it in front of their face, nothing. I try a technique I learned while in Cyrodiil. I place my palm onto the nearest warden’s forehead. I let my magika reach out into his mind. Inside is empty save for a red fog that covers the ground, I release a dispel spell the red haze recedes and I can see a shackled warden kneeling the center of this space. I briskly walk to him and shatter the chains.

“Thank you, my lady.” The warden smiles, the surrounding area starting to transform into what it should be.

I come back from within his mind, the red haze is gone from his eyes. I cast dispel on the other two. As the other two shake the last of the haze from their mind I ask the first an important question.

“Where are the other Wardens?” I remove the man’s ropes and help him stand.

“Adamant Fortress.” The man turns to help his comrades. I turn to Hawke and Stroud.

“Scout out this fortress and confirm they are there. After return to Skyhold we will meet you there. You wardens are welcome to come with us if not that is your choice.” The three wardens agree to come with us and we leave our sperate ways.

 

The return journey to Skyhold is by far better than the journey to the Western Approach. I missed the cold and snow. I decide to pay a visit to Cullen now that we have begun a tentative relationship. I open the door and am nearly assaulted by a flying box. The box misses me and shatter against the wall. I turn to its source to find Cullen shaking against his desk. I quickly cross to him, he nearly collapses in my arms.

“Cullen, what is happening?” I can see sweat soaking his paler than healthy skin. The area under his eyes is purple and drawn. These are the symptoms of substance withdrawal.

“I never meant for my choice to interfere.” I lead him to sit in the coach at the back of his office letting his back settle against my chest.

“Cullen.” He looks so lost and in pain.

“I was in the Fereldan circle when it fell to abominations. I was tortured until the Hero saved me, they tried to break my mind. They sent me to Kirkwall after that, I watched my Knight-Commander descend into madness, innocent people dies. I want nothing more to do with that life.” I wrap my arms around him for comfort. He starts to become agitated. “You should be questioning what I have done. I thought that this would help me gain control over my life. But my mind keeps racing with all these questions. How many lives depend on what we are doing. I swore everything to this cause, I can’t give anything less. I should be taking it.”

“No.” I snap, Cullen’s golden gaze refocusing on me. “No, Cullen. You made the right choice. From what I know that stuff is highly addictive and the Chantry uses it to control both mages and Templars. The red variant can literally turn you into a monster.”

I turn him so he is facing me.

“I have known many warriors who were haunted by what they have done or seen, I myself included. I can help you find peace. Let me help you.”

“How?” Cullen’s eyes plead.

“We need to go somewhere that you are the most at peace.” Cullen thinks for a moment then takes my hand.

“I know the place.”

 

Cullen and I travel for two days until we reach a small pond in Fereldan. We sit down on the bank under the stars.

“I grew up not far from here, this is the most peaceful place I know.” Cullen smiles for the first time since we left Skyhold. “I would come here to clear my thoughts and escape my siblings.”

“This place is perfect.” I take Cullen’s hand and motion for him to face me. “What I am about to teach you is a sacred part of my heritage. Do you remember what I did in Haven?”

Cullen only nods.

“I am going to teach you that but only a part of it. What I did is called shouting, for obvious reasons, or a Thu’um. Shouting was given to us by Kyne or Kynareth goddess of the heavens and mother of men. She is said to lead the souls of the dead to their afterlife. She even has a shout named after her. This is what I am going to teach you.” I position his hands like the grey beards taught me. “Close your eyes.”

Cullen does as instructed.

“This word means peace in the dragon tongue, _Drem **[1]**_.” Everything around us settles into a lull. “I want you to repeat that word in your mind and focus on what it means. Let its power flow over you and fill your soul.”

Cullen breaths in and out steadily, becoming more and more relaxed as he slips into a meditative state. Messer and Secunda or overhead when he comes out of it. His eyes are less troubled than before.

“Thank you, Gwendolyn. I do not understand how but it helped. I have not felt such peace since the last time I was here.” Cullen relaxes his posture. “It was the day I left for training. My brother gave me this.”

Cullen reaches into his pocket and brings out a silver coin.

“He said it was for luck. Templars are not supposed to believe in luck, our faith is supposed to keep us going.” I grin at the statement of luck.

“Luck is a powerful thing, I have seen guilds toppled by it. Lady Luck is very fickle.” ‘I should know I have met her.’ Cullen matches my grin.

“You must be right. I should have dies countless times and yet here I am.” Cullen takes my hand and places the coin in it. “I want you to have it. We do not know what other dangers you will face before this is over. Please.”

I close my hand around the coin, Cullen’s closes around mine. I return my silver eyes to his golden ones and start to lean in.

“For you, anything.” Cullen starts to lean in as well and before our lip touch he whispers.

“Thank you.”

 

[1] Second word of Kyne’s Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two chapter within two days. I combined two scenes from the Cullen romance line. Dispel is from Oblivion and I know that demons aren't really deadra but I made it work for the sake of the story and technically it says summoned creatures. Thank you to all who comment and like. Sadly I own nothing.


	26. Adamant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siege of Adamant begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after this chapter I am diverging from the plot line and really sorta making it my own by adding more Elder Scrolls content. Thank you to all who have supported me this far. Thank you for liking and commenting. We are almost to 2,000 hits, exciting. I used thu'um.org to translate much of the dragon language. If I made a mistake please let me know. As always I own nothing.

Many think a battle is just rushing in with an army and slashing away at all those who stand in their paths. It’s not. Battles take time and planning, strategies are made and supplies gathered. This requires one of the most boring things to do in life, meetings.

“Adamant fortress had stood since the Second Blight.” Leliana continues to inform me about the historical aspect of this Fortress.

“Thankfully that was before modern siege weapons.” Cullen interrupts seeing the glazed look in my eyes. “Those walls won’t be able to stand against a trebuchet.”

“True as that may be, if what Lord Erimond said at the ritual tower is correct there may be an army of demons waiting for us.” Leliana interjects.

“I can deal with the demons easily enough if they have been summoned like at the tower.” I state. “Focus on the Venatori leave the demons to me.”

“If we successfully cut off their reinforcements we can carve you a part to Warden Commander Clarel.”

“May Akitosh guide us.”

 

I sit atop Arvaak on the hill overlooking the fortress. Everyone looked wary when I summoned him but most said he looked no different from a bog unicorn. The battle had been raging for hours now, our trebuchets bombarding the fortress walls. The Wardens return fire, it does not deter or men. Archers light up the sky with flaming arrows. A group of soldiers ram the gate, but are set upon by demons. I urge Arvaak forward, I know Cullen asked that I stay at the back until we had broken through but my blood demands I lead the men at the front lines. I slash at the demons from atop Arvaak and banish them back to the Fade. The ram is heavily damaged.

“ _Fus Ro Dah.”_  My shout finished off the already weakened gate. Inquisition forces flood into Adamant fortress. Solas, Cassandra and Varric join me at the front.

“Inquisitor you were to stay at the back.” I swing myself down off Arvaak and dismiss him.

“Not a chance Cassandra. I am a Nord, battle is where I belong.” I unsheathe my blades ready for a fight.

Half a dozen demons are milling about the courtyard off the gate. I banish them with a flick of my wrist. I can’t do anything about the attacking wardens. I see a flash of gold and red fighting alongside us. A Warden atop the inner wall spots us.

“The wall has been breached pull back.” Cullen comes up next to me.

“We have made a path, go while you can. We will try and keep the demons busy.” I look around to see sheer pandemonium. The men on the outer walls are meeting severe resistance. “Hawke is waiting on the battlements doing what she can.”

“Leave the demons to me Cullen, do what you can to minimize losses.” I lean in closer to whisper in his ear. “Be safe.”

He smiles then puts his helmet back on to lead the men.

I find Hawke surrounded by demons and enslaved wardens. I release dual banish spells taking care of the majority of the demons. The wardens charge us blindly. I do my best to incapacitate them and dispel the red haze but my magika is starting to dwindle, I must focus on my men.

Inch by bloody inch we advance deeper into the fortress. Our forces finally gaining a foothold on the walls. Bodies of wardens and Inquisition forces alike litter the battlements. I try to look for Cullen but I am interrupted by a giant pride demon.

The demon attacked with lighting whips, searing those closest. Agonizing screams come from all those unlucky enough to be in the whip’s path. I feel its crackle whiz by my ear. I can’t get close enough because of the whip. I have an idea.

“Varric.” I shout. His blonde head whips around to hear the next part. “Use the special bolts I gave you.”

Before we had left Skyhold I had given Varric a leftover from my time in the Dawngaurd. Exploding Dwarven Bolts of Fire, Ice and Shock. Varric loads one into Bianca and lets it fly. The bolt hits its mark, the ice momentarily stunning the pride demon. It is long enough for me sprint toward it.

“ _Krii Luun Aus. **[1]**” _ The purple aura of death surrounds the demon. I slide under its legs and slice its Achilles tendons. The demon falls to its knees continuing to weaken. I spin back around using its back as a springboard. As I come back down to earth I swiftly decapitate the creature. It gives one last laugh as its detached head rolls past me before dissolving into nothingness.

We find Warden-Commander Clarel in the very heart of the fortress. In the center of the courtyard is a writing cloud of green Fade. Multiple warden mages control the mass. Atop a balcony is Clarel.

“Wardens the world we have sworn to protect has betrayed us.” I can see her turn to who I know to be Lord Erimond. Another warden kneels before her. Clarel slowly walks to him drawing a dagger.

“Stop.” I shout. Clarel stills her blade before she can slit his throat. Lord Erimond is furious and commands the wardens to attack us. “Clarel think about what is going on here. I know you are scared but Lord Erimond is using you. He is working for Corypheus.”

“Corypheus is dead.” Clarel looks uncertain. Lord Erimond moves next to her.

“These people will say anything to shake you.” Clarel closes her eyes in contemplation.

“Do it.” Clarel’s eyes harden. The green mass crackles and becomes a fade rift.

“Wardens I do not wish to fight you. I know you are scared but please listen to me. I met your brethren at the ritual tower. Their minds were not their own after that. I was able to help them.” I can see wardens nod in agreement. Stroud speaks up.

“Brothers and sisters, I honor your bravery but we have been tricked.” The wardens look to Clarel for guidance. Lord Erimond interrupts before she can speak.

“My master knew you might try to disrupt this ritual, so he sent me this to deal with you.” AN unholy shriek fills the courtyard.

That thing is back. It shrieks and breaths red lighting at us. We all dodge. The dragon souls scream at me demanding this things head. Telling me that this is no Dovah and needs to be destroyed.

“ _Bein Nass. Hi los nid Dovah. **[2]**” _ The creature does not respond yet again. _“Hin klov los dii **[3]**”_

The abomination lands on one of the towers behind Lord Erimond. Suddenly a bolt of sparks smashes into Lord Erimond’s back, knocking him to the ground. Clarel stands resolute above him. She starts to aim another shot of sparks at the abomination.

“Wait.” Lord Erimond shouts. Too late. The sparks hit the abomination but they do little other than making it mad. It takes to the air aiming its breath at Clarel.

“ _Yol. **[4]**_ ” My fire breath knocks the abominations aim off just enough for Clarel to jump to the side. She looks around, Lord Erimond has fled.

“Wardens, help the Inquisitor.”

 

Now that we have the wardens helping us it is much easier to defeat the demons. I can focus my magika on breaking the spells the warden mages are under. We tear through the fortress looking for Erimond. The abomination hot on our heels. At one point it sticks its head into a corridor to try and roast us with its red lighting.

“ _Fo **[5]**._ ” Frost hits the side of its head forcing it to move. We rush past.

We find Lord Erimond cornered by Clarel. She marches for him as he desperately tries to defend himself. His spells bounce harmlessly off her shield.

“You have destroyed the Grey Wardens.” She snarls. She backs him to the edge hitting him with a spell. Lord Erimond lands on his back next to the edge of a sheer drop. He laughs as he starts to get up.

“I did nothing you did this to yourselves.” He leans back obviously hurt. “All I did was offer power and you couldn’t wait to get your hands bloody.”

Clarel practically growl. She sends an enormous wave of lighting at the still prone Lord Erimond, pushing him halfway across the floor away from the edge. As he moans in agony I can see smoke rising from his body.

“You could have served a god.” Clarel hovers over him.

“A Grey Warden will never serve the Blight.” Just before she can finish him the abomination swoops down and grabs her in its teeth.

It flies up to a battlement shaking Clarel back and forth until it drops her to ground. She lies still. The abomination then advances on us, hissing at it gets closer.

I stare straight into its dead eyes, baring my teeth at it. I feel my feature shift, pupils becoming slits and teeth elongating.

“ _Zu’u dreh ni faas hi. **[6]**_ I snarl at the abomination in front of me. The creature moves directly on top of Clarel. She is dying. I can barely make out her last words as she charges her spell.

“In war, sacrifice. In peace, vigilance. In death.” An explosion goes off before she can finish.

The force of it propels the creature forward, crushing the balcony. The abomination slides off the edge almost landing in the giant rift below, it saves itself at the last moment.

I cannot say the same for us. We try to run but we do not make it. As we fall I put my hand in front of my face, the mark activates and I let myself fall.

 

[1] Marked for Death

[2] Foul corpse. You are no dragon.

[3] Your head is mine.

[4] Fire.

[5] Frost. First word of frost breath shout.

[6] I do not fear you.


	27. Into the Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn enters the Fade and learns who is really behind Corypheus' power.

I can feel myself falling through the air. I open my eyes and see the ground fast approaching. Before I smack into the ground I hover momentarily, then I smack into the ground. I get up with a groan and few pops from my back. I survey my surroundings, everything is wrong. Stroud stands parallel to the ground and Hawke is magically standing upside down on a cliff.

“Are we dead?” She asks. I can see Solas looking off into the distance.

“This is the Fade.” Well that explains a lot.

I can feel a sinister force in the back of my mind.

‘Dragonborn.’ It whispers.  I can’t make out who the voice belongs to, I know it from somewhere.

“What spirit commands this place?” Solas inquires. Something seems off about him.

Hawke starts to climb down with the help of Varric. I can see the concern in his eyes and a slight nod from her, no doubt saying, ‘I am fine’.

“This isn’t the Fade I remember.” Cassandra is quiet, most likely in shock of the experience. “They say you walked out of the Fade at Haven, was this what it was like?”

I search my memories but find noting, even after all these months I still can’t remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

“I don’t remember. Something about this place is familiar though.” I can feel it.

“We must keep moving forward. The demon Lord Erimond was about to summon was right on the other side. We are not safe here.” Stroud comes up next to me. We all agree to move forward.

 

As we walk I can feel the force following us. Everything around us is desolate, bones are littered around us. The sky is a sickly green. Solas informs us all that this realm is controlled by fear. Suddenly we stop. There she is Divine Justinia.

“It can’t be.” Cassandra gasps.

“I greet you Warden, and Dragonborn.” She smiles at us all including Cassandra who looks to be on the verge of tears.

“You are not Divine Justinia. No one knew who I was at that time.” I take a step back. The sprit only smiles.

“You are correct, I am her spirit. I have come to help you regain your memories and return home. There is a power here that will stop at nothing to kill you.” She is referring to the dark energy that has been following us. “The demon that controls this realm is that which took your memories and sent the false Calling to the Grey Wardens.”

“Lead the way.” The spirit turns and we follow.

As we make our way through the Fade my memories slowly return in snippets here and there. Finally, it comes back in a rush.

I can see the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The Divine is being restrained by red energy coming from Grey Warden mages. She asks them why they are doing this. Then enters Corypheus. He lifts the same orb he attacked me with and activates it. The divine cries for help. I see myself open the doors to respond to her call.

“What is the meaning of this.” As Corypheus is momentarily distracted the Divine knocks the orb out of his hands. It rolls along the floor hitting my feet. I pick it up as it is still sparking with energy. Then everything explodes.

As I recover everyone starts debating on whether or not my mark came from their Andraste. I care not. Solas cautions us on the nightmare.

‘Dragonborn, I knew you would come back one day.’ The voice is back closer this time.

We continue, passing remains of dreams and memories.

“You should have thanked me, Dragonborn. I took away your fear.” A sinister voice fills the air. “My master almost didn’t want me to.” I ignore it. “My master was angry when you abandoned him, he wanted you to hurt. They say pain makes you stronger, what utter drivel.”

We press on blocking out the voice best we can. Another memory comes to light. One showing the Divine dying and the spirit taking her place to help me.

“It was you who helped me.” I turn to the spirit. “The Divine died and you took her place.”

The sprit shed the visage of the divine and became pure light. I kneel.

“You are a Magna-Ge.” Everyone looks confused.

“My name is Xero-Lyg.” I rise. “I must ask your help Dragonborn. An evil is coming to this world that you must stop. This evil nearly destroyed your world before.”

Stroud and Hawke start to argue about the Grey Wardens.

“Shut up.” I shout at them, both stop cold looking past me. I turn back to see what they are looking at. Spider. Xero-Lyg speaks up before evanishing.

“The nightmare has found you.”

I hate spider above all other living things in the world. I take no chances.

“Nope, Nope.” I cast incinerate at every single one.

“Don’t like spiders Inquisitor?” Varric jest once all the spiders are ash.

“No, they are disgusting creatures. They grow to be nearly the size of horses in Skyrim and I have seen ones bigger than that.” Varric’s eyes go wide. “Plus, I hate their eyes.”

The nightmare starts to taunt my party.

“Do you think you can defeat fear? My master lets Corypheus think he is in control but my master has an army beyond any ever seen in Thedas.”

‘Dragonborn did you think you could hide from me, your blood gave you away. I know who your ancestors were.’ I can almost tell whose voice that is.

We see a grave yard detailing the fears of my party, I leave it to rest. They do not need their fear come to light. We finally reach the Fade. A giant spider guards the path. A grotesque demon hovers in front of it. Xero-Lyg comes from behind us.

“Please tell Leliana ‘I am sorry I failed you too’.” She floats up to the spider and a blinding light fills the area making us close our eyes. When the light clears both she and the spider are gone and only the demon remains.

The fight is brutal. The demon calls upon legions of spiders then disappears only to reappear across the way. I slice and hack at the foul creatures coating my swords in their black blood. Solas calls down lighting and frost. Cassandra, Stroud and Hawke fight alongside me. Varric fires bolt after bolt, using the ones I gave him. We need more help. I hope this works.

“ _Hun kaal zoor **[1]**.”_ Sovngarde answers.

“I have come to your aid Dragonborn.” A Hero of Sovngarde stands before me. He bows then enters the fray.

The Hero helps, now I can focus on the demon. I finally manage to pin him, slicing off his six extra limbs. He writhes in agony, black blood flowing freely from the wounds.

“You may defeat me Dragonborn but my master is coming and all will kneel before him.” I plunge my blades onto his head turning him to dust.

Another voice fills the space this time laughing.

“Ha ha ha. You have dispatched my general Dragonborn.” I know that voice. “How do you like my new champion. He is easy enough to manipulate.”

“No.” it couldn’t be.

“Yes, your ancestors thought they could seal me away but I have prevailed. Soon my armies will march across your plane and conquer it in my name. Then I shall return myself.”

“Mehrunes Dagon.” I growl. “You won’t get away with this.”

“Oh, but I have. Even now my champion is retrieving one of the last items I need to reopen my gates.” I gasp.

“We need to leave now.” I shout. I start running to the rift. Everyone follows, we are stopped by the giant spider.

“Go, I will cover you.” Hawke says. I can see Varric’s eyes widen.

“No, this is the fault of the Grey Wardens let one of them right this wrong.” I can see that they are about to start arguing once more.

“Both of you go.” I grind out charging a spell. They all rush to the rift. I fire lighting at the behemoth. I duck under its legs to follow my companions. Once they are clear I release the spell in my left hand. “I summon thee sprit of flame.”

A flame atronach appears and immediate starts fighting the spider. I dash for the rift. I gear the atronach explode.

“ _Wuld. **[2]**” _ I make it to the portal just as the spider’s jaws snap the air where I had just been. I through myself into the rift.

 

I emerge to more fighting, this time between demons and Inquisition forces. I clench my fist and banish them all, closing the rift behind me simultaneously. The men around me cheer. Hawke walks up to me with news.

“Without the nightmare the warden mages are free. Corypheus has lost his demon army.” I frown.

“No, he hasn’t.” Hawke gives me a quizzical look. Before she can ask what I mean an agent interrupts.

Inquisitor, the arch-demon flew off as soon as you disappeared. Commander Cullen is holding the Venatori awaiting your command. Those of the Grey Wardens who hadn’t been corrupted helped us fight the demons.” A warden marches up next to the agent and salutes me.

“Inquisitor, the Wardens are prepared to help you make up for Clarel’s mistake.” The warden looks down defeated. “We have no one left of any rank, what do we do?”

“The Inquisition welcomes you.” Solas grimaces. “You rebuild and reaffirm yourselves to what you fight for. I fear that you may need it in the future.”

The return trip to Skyhold is tense no one wanting to talk about what happened. We reach the gate in record time. I rush to Josephine’s office to tell her the news.

“Inquisitor, what can I do for you?” I sit in the chair facing her desk.

“I have to return to Skyrim.”

 

 

 

 

 

[1] Hero of Sovngarde shout.

[2] First word of Whirlwind Sprint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, Dun, DUUUUUN. Plot twist. We have officially crossed into uncharted waters. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I wrote this one pretty quick and was looking forward to writing it. Thank you for liking and commenting, let me know what you though. I Own nothing


	28. Return to Skyrim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn returns to Skyrim bringing some friends along with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to bend some game physics to make this work. Fast travel isn't really a thing in this story. I know that it is not really plausible, but hey it is fan-fiction anything can happen. Thank you to all who continue to read this story. Thank you for liking and commenting. It makes me so happy to see that over 2,000 people have read this story. I hope you are enjoying these new twists and turns. Let me know what you think. As Always I own nothing.

Josephine is stunned beyond words.

“What do you mean?” I sigh.

“Something has come up. I learned something while in the Fade that requires me to go back to Skyrim.” Josephine leans back in her seat.

“My lady how will you get there and be back in time for the Winter Ball, it only a month away and you said it took two months to get here.” I sit contemplating my options.

“Leave that to me I have an idea though I know you won’t like it. I will need the battlements cleared tomorrow night, keep all the visiting nobles away from there and the windows.” Josephine is taken aback.

The news of my departure spreads fast amongst my advisors, inner circle and the rest of Skyhold. Cassandra and Leliana corner me demanding I take at least two of my inner circle with me. It takes much lecturing and nagging before I give in. I decide on Blackwall and Solas. Both will blend in better. I can’t take Varric due to him being a Dwemer and not wanting to insight a riot. Iron Bull can’t go for two obvious reasons. The method of transportation I have chosen is not advisable for Cole. Everyone else is just, no. Cullen finds me in the rooms they have set up for me. They came with a balcony.

“I heard that you are going back to your homeland?” He leans against the door watching me do endless paperwork. I put my pen down to properly look at him.

“Yes, I saw something while in the Fade that requires me to go back.” Cullen crosses the room and wraps his arms around me from behind.

“When you fell into the Fade my heart stopped I couldn’t help but think I lost you forever. When you reappeared, I was so relieved. I can’t imagine going through that again, I worry every time you leave through those gates.” I lean into the hug while still in my seat.

“I know Cullen, but I have to go. This matter cannot wait. Blackwall and Solas are coming with me. Please don’t worry too much while I am gone.” We spend the rest of the evening snacking on wine and cheese courtesy of a visiting Orlesian noble. I catch Cullen watching me every so often, worry evident on his face.

“Cullen are you still meditating on that word I taught you?” Cullen puts his glass of wine down.

“I do, it helps when the pain or memories get too bad.” I place my hand over his.

“Whenever you feel worry for me focus on that word and find peace. I promise I will return by the Winter Ball.” We finish the night cuddling by the fireside, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

 

The night of my departure come swiftly. I have prepared Blackwall and Solas best I can, both are still anxious. When I am sure that witnesses will be few I call my ride.

“ _Durnehviir **[1]**.” _ My shout ricochets off the mountain sides echoing into the night.

A low rumble can be heard in the distance. It increases until a familiar green body is flying overhead in the light of the twin moons.

“ _Dii Dovah Jud **[2]**.” _ Durnehviir lands on the battlements his claws gripping the aged stone. Solas and Blackwall take an instinctive step back. “You have summoned me? It feels good to once again feel the breeze on my wings. I must admit I had not expected to ever be here again. How unusual that you find yourself here.”

Solas and Blackwall are stunned to hear Durnehviir speak. His low voice sending shockwaves through the air around us. Even when speaking a dovah’s voice holds power.

“What can I assist you with Dovahkiin?” I approach him.

“I need you to take us into the Soul Cain then to Tamriel. Can you that my friend?” Durnehviir goes quiet.

“The journey will require payment.” I reach in my pocket and pull out the only grand soul gem I have with me.

“Will this be enough?” Durnehviir lowers his enormous head and peers at the gem. The ever present yellow drool coming from his maw drips onto me.

“This will do.” I give Durnehviir the gem. He further lowers his head so that I may climb onto his neck. Solas and Blackwall haven’t moved a muscle.

“Aren’t you coming?” I inquire, motioning to Durnehviir. “We don’t have much time.”

“Are you sure this beast is safe my lady.” Blackwall stammers out. Durnehviir give an indignant snort but says nothing.

“Quite sure Blackwall. Durnehviir is my friend though I do not think he appreciates being called a beast.” Blackwall is still hesitant but climbs on anyway, making a point to avoid Durnehviir’s teeth and drool. Solas is fascinated by Durnehviir and climbs on without hesitance. “Hold on tight. _Bo Dii Fahdon_.[3]”

Durnehviir takes to the sky with a mighty beat of his wings. The wind whips around us, the sound like a thousand waterfalls in our ears. Blackwall holds tight to my waist. Solas is looking around in terrified amazement. Purple flames consume us a Durnehviir returns to the Soul Cairn.

It is exactly as I remember it, Bleak and nightmarish. Below are the wandering souls trapped in soul gems. Lighting and thunder crackle overhead.

“What is this place?” I hear Solas shout above the wind.

“This is the Soul Cairn. A place where trapped souls wander forever.” The exit is coming into view. Durnehviir lands right next to the exit. Durnehviir takes me aside before we leave.

“Beware that _fahliil **[4]** Dovahkiin. _ I sense _Lo **[5]** _ from him.” I nod to Durnehviir. I have had that same feeling from Solas for some time now.

“Thank you, my friend. Fly well.” Durnehviir takes off once more to continue his eternal flight in this forsaken place.

We exit the Soul Cain to Castle Volkihar. Since the destruction of the clan and is its patriarch the castle has sat empty collecting dust. I would have destroyed it but Serena insisted it remain standing, also the portal to the Soul Cairn resides in the basement. I reach into my pack and hand my companions cloaks.

“You will need these. We are in the northern most part of the continent in the heart of winter. Without them you will freeze.” The two quickly put them on. Before we go the capital, I need to send messages to my council. I summon Lucien. He appears in his usual fashion, startling Blackwall causing him to nearly draw his sword.

“My listener.”

“Got to my generals and tell them I am convening a meeting in Cyrodiil in two days’ time.”

“Thy will be done.” He vanishes as quickly as he came.

“My lady what was that creature? A demon?” I sigh.

“That is the spirit of Lucien Lachance. A famous assassin, he is bound to my service.” Blackwall is less troubled but not by much. I start to head to the exit when Solas speaks up.

“What did you mean when you said, ‘your generals’?” I stop in my tracks.

“There are things you do not know about me. What you witness may shock you.” I start to walk again, briskly this time. I am eager to see my homeland again. I push open the doors. The smell of the sea and the sting of snow assault my face. I am home.  “Welcome to Skyrim.”

 

[1] Summon Durnehviir

[2] My Dragon Queen

[3] Fly my friend

[4] Elf

[5] Trickery


	29. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn returns to Skyrim and travels to the Throat of the World.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, completely uncharted waters here. Let me know what you think. Thank you for reading, liking and commenting. As always I own nothing.

The walk from Ice Water Jetty to Solitude is done is silence, punctuated only by the constant fall of snow. Blackwall and Solas have been silent since we left the castle. Either because of being overwhelmed or trying not to freeze to death. The month of Evening Star has a firm grip upon the land. Five hours late I can see the gates of Solitude in the distance. I turn to my companions to prepare them for what is next.

“Solas, you will see a few elves here. They may not speak elven to you when you do, also keep your staff on sheathed.” He gives me a look. “Same goes for you, Blackwall, keep the weapons sheathed at all times. The guards are very particular about that.”

My companions say nothing back only nod and do as a I said. As we pass the stables I can feel eyes start to stare at me. Some slightly bow their heads. We finally reach the gate. A guard stops us.

“Halt, who goes there?” I push back my hood to let the guard see my face. “Dragonborn, I am sorry I didn’t recognize you, your majesty. Open the gates.”

The other guards do as he says. They kneel as I pass through the gate, I could never break them of that habit. I ignore everyone I see until we reach the Blue Palace. Being High King, Emperor and Dragonborn takes me across the land quite frequently, because of that I kept Jarl Elisif as Jarl of Solitude for my travels. She governs Solitude in my stead. She is currently holding court.

“We must start preparing for the New Life Festival.” I can hear her say, most likely to her steward, Falk Firebeard.

“Perhaps we might ask the mages to set up the lights this year instead of using torches.” I let my voice ring out into the court. Everyone who had been seated, including Elisif, stands.

“Your majesty, you have returned.” Elisif states bowing low. I really will never get used to that.

“If only for a little while.” I motion for everyone to be at ease. “I am calling an emergency council in one weeks’ time, in Cyrodiil. There is a situation coming that requires immediate action.”

“Of course, my king, we shall send out couriers at once to every part of the Empire. Will you be staying for long?” Falk asks.

“No, I have other business to attend to before the meeting. However, I will be staying the night my companions and I are exhausted. A hot meal and rest would be greatly appreciated.”

“Right away, your majesty.” Elisif’s housecarl, Bolegeir replies.

My room is as I left it, no one would be fool enough to steal anything from me. A hearty meal is delivered on a platter, along with a tankard of Honningbrew mead. I may have reinstated them after I disposed of Maven Blackbriar. I am reading the reports of all that has gone on since my departure when someone knocks at my door.

“Enter.” I call out. Both Solas and Blackwall enter.

“My lady we are sorry to disturb you but we do have some questions.” Blackwall states sheepishly.

“But of course. Ask away.” I motion for them to take a seat across from my desk next to a roaring fire.

“My lady, why are they calling you ‘my king’ and ‘your majesty’?” Blackwall asks.

“Because I am.” Both looked stunned beyond words. “Let me clarify. You have heard the rumors about the Dragon Emperor who rules the land across the sea?”

“Yes, everyone is talking about them.” Blackwall answers.

“That Dragon Emperor is me. I am the rule of this entire continent, my empire. I am also High King of Skyrim.” Again, they are stunned. “My official title I use is The Dragon Queen, as I am also ruler of the dragons. My people use king and emperor because gender is not a factor with titles here and tradition has just continued.”

“How can you be ruler of the dragons?” Solas asks perplexed.

“I am their kin and I defeated their last ruler, Alduin.” Neither speak. “If you would like I can recount my tale or I can get a copy of it.”

“I would very much like to hear your story, my lady.” Blackwall answers. I nod and we settle in for a long night.

 

The dawn finds us at the stables renting a carriage to take us to Whiterun. We are headed to High Hrothgar then to Winterhold. The ride is uneventful with Solas and Blackwall asking me constant questions through it. Blackwall asks about the history of the land while Solas asks more about its gods and magic. We arrive in Whiterun about midday. The city has grown since the Civil War, few traces of the siege can be found. We stop at the Bannered Mare for food and supplies. Before we leave the city, I visit the Temple of Kynareth.

“How can we help you?” Asks one of the priestesses.

“Was there a man by the name of Felix who came by?” The priestess thinks for a moment then replies.

“Why yes, he was very ill when he came here, but with enough healing and time he made a full recovery.” That is relieving.

“Where is he now?”

“He went to the College of Winterhold to study.” The priestess informs, she then excuses herself to see to another patient.

It is Solas who asks.

“Why were you asking about Felix? I thought he was dead.” I shake my head as we start on the road to Ivarstead. By my calculations we should reach it by nightfall.

“No, after we defeated his father I sent him here to the Temple of Kynareth. She is the goddess of air, wind and sky. All those who need healing go there.” We pass the Honningbrew. “She is the Imperial name for the Nordic goddess Kyn. She is the one who gave Nords the ability to shout.”

Riverwood comes and goes with no incident. The guards had informed me that bandit activity has been down as of late. The Throat of the World rises up looming over us. The wind starts to pick up the further we go. We a just passing the Guardian stones when Solas asks to examine them.

“What are these?” Solas gestures to the standing stones.

“They are called standing stones. These three are the Guardian Stones.” I move to stand next to my current sign ‘the warrior’. “They are ‘The Thief’, ‘The Warrior’, and ‘The Mage’. They enhance those related skills and help the bearer learn them faster. Others grant special powers depending on their name.”

“How do they work.” Asks Solas, reaching out to touch one. I quickly grab his hand. He looks at my hand wrapped around his wrist.

“By touching them. You may choose one if you wish, but you can only bear one sign at a time.” I release Solas’ wrist. Blackwall walks to ‘The Warrior’ its familiar glow shooting into the sky. Solas declines the invitation.

We only pass one bandit camp, halfway to Ivarstead. They start to charge us. Solas lets loose waves of lighting and flames. Blackwall shield bashes a few on the head. I slash with my twin glass swords. We fight until all the bandits lie slaughtered on the ground. I loot the bodies and notice that Solas is looking at his staff oddly.

“Something troubling you, Solas?” Solas looks back at me.

“My magic is different here.” He lifts his hand and fires a bolt of ice. “I have no need of a staff.”

“Makes sense there is no Fade restricting the flow of magika here. You will get used to it, we must continue.” I press on, now is not the time for a lesson in magic.

“Secunda and Messer are high overhead when we reach Ivarstead. My companions are exhausted. Thankfully the Vilemyr Inn has beds. Few questions are asked, Wilhelm knows better. He does how ever give Solas an odd look but holds his tongue.

I toss and turn for hours unable to find rest. I decide to sit by the hearth. I find Blackwall doing the same.

“Can’t sleep?” I ask while settling down next to him.

“The deeds of my past often do.” He mumbles keeping his eyes on the flames.

“I see. Perhaps speaking about them will help lessen the burden. I know it does with me.” Blackwall turns to me with anguish in his dark eyes. He slowly nods. I move behind the counter to fetch us some true nord mead. I sit back down offering him the drink. Blackwall takes a hearty chug.

“I am running from my past. From my name.” He takes another drink obviously trying to steel himself. “I am not Warden Blackwall.”

He closes his eyes in preparation of my reaction. I only drink then place the tankard back down.

“If you are not Warden Blackwall, who are you?” I ask. Blackwall opens his eyes and sighs.

“My name is Thom Rainier.”

“Why would you give up your name Thom?” Thom looks me square in the eyes.

“Because I gave an order that cost the lives of an innocent family.” The shame that fills his eye is heart wrenching. “I was an officer in the Imperial Orlesian Army. My superior Ser Robert Chapuis ordered me to attack a known ally of The Empress. We were not told why. We killed him and his family, innocent civilians.”

Thom breaks eye contact, looking down in shame.

“That blame does not lie with you but with the man who ordered you. You were only a soldier.” I place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “When I was a soldier in the Stormcloak army I did horrendous things as well. I know I could never undo what I did but I made I did atone for my actions. I followed a man with such hate in his heart that it infected me too.”

Thom inly sighs.

“I am sure that the original Blackwall would be proud of the work you have done with the Inquisition. If you desire I shall continue to call you Blackwall. Your secret is safe with me.” I stand leaving the tankard where they sit along with a few gold coins.

“Thank you, my lady.” Is the last thing I hear that night.


	30. Eye of Magunus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can the Dragonborn reach the College of Winterhold before it is too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. Sorry I have not updated in so long, life has been hectic. Hopefully I should be able to get out a few chapter this week. As always thank you to those who like, comment and above all have stuck with me. Enjoy.

My dreams are filled with fire and destruction. Menacing laughter bombarding me from all sides. The flames are tinted green, the wolf prowls ever closer.

“Your ancestor may have stopped me once but now the Lone Wolf will help me.”

I jolt awake in a pool of sweat. Mehrunes Dagon is coming, soon. I must prepare. I quickly dress and wake my companions. They are groggy but sense my urgency. I pay for the rooms and food before leaving the inn. I make the 7,000-step journey in record time, I have to stop a few times for my companions to catch up. By mid-morning we reach our destination, High Hrothgar. I push open the heavy doors to the sanctuary of the Greybeards. The Graybeards bow to me in acknowledgment.

“You have returned, Dovahkiin, from your journey across the sea.” Angier address me.

“Only for a short while, I fear that a great evil is about to befall the world. I must consult with Paarthurnax.” Angier nods and gestures to the door with his arm.

I lead my companions to the edge of the perpetual storm. I breathe deeply.

“ _Lok Vah Koor.” **[1]**_ The wind and snow settle and we ascend to the peak.

“ _Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin.”_ Paarthurnax’s powerful voice echoes across the snow. There he sits atop his wall.

“To you as well, my dear friend.” Solas and Blackwall stand behind me as Paarthurnax lands in front of me.

“What has brought you here?” The heat of his breath ruffles my hair.

“Mehrunes Dagon is planning on trying to invade Nirn once more. This time across the sea on the continent of Lyg. I am calling a muster of all the armies of the Empire.”

Paarthurnax only hums in response, obviously unsettled.

“This is most troubling , _Dovahkiin,_ ” Paarthurnax lifts his head to look at the sky. “I remember the last time the _Deyradul **[2]** _ invaded the plain of Mundus.”

“I fear that he will use the “Eye of Magnus” to open the Gates of Oblivion.” I place a hand on his scales. They are not rough as one may assume but rather smooth like metal. “I have come to ask to gather the dragons, tell them to meet at the Imperial City. I also ask if you might carry my companions and I to Winterhold.”

“It would be my pleasure, I shall convene the other _Dovah_ as you requested.” Paarthurnax leans down so that we may climb on. “Hold on tight _Dovahkiin,_ for the winter winds are very fierce this year.”

Soaring thru the skies above my home have never ceased to fill me with joy. Seeing my homeland from this height really makes me feel like the dragon I am. The wind rushing past me is exhilarating.

It only seems like minutes before the Shrine of Azura rises before us. The massive statue touching the sky. Beyond that lies Winterhold and the college. I could feel Solas tense at the sight of the shrine, there will be questions later.

Paarthurnax lands just outside the gate of Winterhold. After my ascension I pour a great amount of gold and time into the city. I restored it to its former glory. Easing tensions between the college and the people was not easy but now it thrives, a true hub of learning and magic.

We disembark giving thanks to Paarthurnax with the promise of calling for him again.

“Inquisitor, what was that statue on the mountain?” Solas asks as we walk through the city.

“That was the shrine of Azura, Daedric Prince of Dusk and Dawn.” I answer without looking back.

“Daedric Prince?” I stop in my tracks letting gout a shaky breath.

“They are the et’ada who refused to participate in the creation of this world. Some worship them and call them ‘the Old gods’. Most of them are evil, using mortals to carry out their commands,” I continue waking, determined to reach the college. The perpetual snow of Winterhold whips my silver hair around my face. “The voice I heard while in the Fade belonged to one of the princes, Mehrunes Dagon.  A little over 200 years ago Dagon invaded this world during what was called the Oblivion Crisis. It was only through the combined efforts of the Hero and Martin Septim that he and his armies were driven back. I was once his champion until I learned about my ancestry.”

Solas obviously wants me to say more but we have reached the college gates. I remember after helping Ulfric win his war I was left aimless, too weak to fight Alduin just yet. At many taverns and inns, I had heard the rumors of the great College of Winterhold. Braving the snow swept landscape of the region I made it to Winterhold. Like many of my fellow countrymen we only used magic to light our hearths, we viewed it as weak and cowardly, the weapon of elves.

It was through my studies that I unlocked hidden powers within me. Through meditation I was able to enhance my dragonborn abilities and create my own magic. For months I studied every branch of magic available. I would have been content to stay a mere student of the craft, had Ancano not tried to destroy the world with his ambition. My appointment to the role of Arch-Mage by the Psijic Order had not been my first choice, but my destiny being what it was demanded I stop any threat to the world, if that meant leading the College so be it.

Unlike as is protocol of having all who wish to enter display some magical talent, the gate was unguarded. Something was wrong. Though relations with the College and the city had been smoothed over, I still enforced the rule of separation due to the volatile nature of magic, for the safety of both parties.

Upon reaching the courtyard I saw mages scattered around, dead. I ran to the Hall of the Elements, what awaited me made my blood run cold.

After the debacle with the Eye of Magnus, the Psijic Order had hidden the artifact away. A few years after my conquest and subsequent ascension I convinced the order to keep the eye at the college, so that I could be studied. The order agreed so long as it may be there to oversee. So, after hundreds of years of seclusion the Psijic Order rejoined the rest of Tamriel.

Inside the hall mages were fighting for their lives. Frost, lighting and flame arced across the hall. What they were fighting was my worst fear come true. Daedra, along with red templars. A barrier had been erected in the center of the room, reminiscent of my battle with Ancano, only inside was Corypheus. Behind him, an oblivion gate. No.

“Help the mages.” I shouted to Solas and Blackwall. Before charging the barrier, I retrieved the Staff of Magnus from my pack. This was a precaution to make sure there would always be a way to stop the eye from being misused. I charged the staff and struck the barrier with a bolt of lightning. The barrier shuddered but did not break. Corypheus turned to me, sneering from the other side.

“You,” He growled out. “I have what I need, soon I shall split the veil and my armies will pour across Thedas. After I am done I shall turn my sights to this land.”

Solas runs up behind me. Corypheus sees him.

“My master sends you his thanks, Dread Wolf.” With that he walks back into the oblivion gate, taking the Eye of Magnus with him.

After he disappears so do the rest of the daedra, the barrier dissipating. I feel rage boiling within me. My eyes and teeth changing to reflect my true nature. I whirl upon Solas, fire in my voice.

“What are you?” I demand. I stalk towards him, naturally he backs up until I pin him to a column. He tries to defend with a ward, but I knock the staff from his hands, he is not yet accustomed to staff less casting. Grabbing him by the neck, I lift him into the air still pinned to the column. “I shall ask once more. What are you?”

 

[1] Clear Skies Shout.

[2] Daedric Prince


	31. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas reveals the truth to the Dragonborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, second chapter this week. I tried to balance the lores in this chapter. Let me know what you think so far. Same as always I own nothing. Thanks for liking, commenting and reading.

“Answer me, Solas!” I roar in his face. Solas gasps for breath. Sudden clarity reaches my mind. I drop him, he lands in a heap coughing and clutching his throat. “It was you. Everything that has happened is because of you.”

                I think of everything that has happened, it all makes sense. Knowing so much about the mark. Automatically knowing the orbs origins, Skyhold. The wolf in my dreams. All because of him. I back away from him as my rage returns, lest I do something stupid. Solas coughs then stands, supporting himself with the pillar.

                “It was,” He answers. “My true name is lost to history. The Dalish call me Fen’Harel or The Dread Wolf. It is true, I gave the orb to Corypheus. I needed him to unlock its power, so I could destroy the veil and restore my people.”

                I growl at his stupidity and arrogance.

                “Do you know what you have done?” I clench my fists wanting desperately to connect them to his face.

                “I was trying to save my people,” He defends. “After I created the veil, everything changed. Cut off from the Fade, they began to die.”

                “The Veil is what is protecting them.” I grind out.

                “The separation has caused their enslavement.” I snap.

                “You one told me of the forgotten ones, who apparently you trapped. That is what the veil protects them from. The Fade isn’t some paradise for the elves, it is the realm of the forgotten ones, the Daedric Princes. Now because of your arrogance Mehrunes Dagon can now try to once again invade this reality and enslave everyone,” Solas is silent. “I will not let the world burn because of your obsession with the past.”

                I turn my back to him and climb the stairs to my study. Selecting a chair, I drop myself into it, closing my eyes in frustration and exhaustion. I do not know how long I was like that when a knock stirs me.

                “Enter.” I call out. In steps Felix.

                “Lady Herald, or should I call you Arch-Mage.” He looks well, his previously ashen face now tinted pink and full. He has traded hi Tevinter garbs for traditional mages robes. I stand to greet him.

                “You are looking well, Felix,” I move to embrace him. “I was glad to hear that you had made it to Whiterun.”

                “The priestesses were most kind to me. They healed me and helped me find new purpose,” We take the conversation to my desk. “After being healed I traveled here, to the College. I now studied restoration magic. I hope to one day return to Tevinter and share what I know. Too much blood has been shed, it is now time for an era of healing.”

                “I wish you well in your studies, I have a feeling we may soon need many more healers.” Felix only looks down. Before I can say more another knock interrupts us. “Enter.”

                In walks both Solas and Blackwall. Solas doesn’t look at me.

                “It seems we are out of time, Felix,” Quickly scrawling on a piece of parchment and handing it to him. “Please give this to Mirabelle Ervine, she will know what to do with it. You may be returning home sooner rather than later, Felix.”

                Felix bows and exits, leaving me with my companions. Blackwall approaches me while Solas lingers behind.

                “My lady, what were those creatures?” I fold my hands under my chin before answering.

                “Those were lesser daedra in the service of Mehrunes Dagon. Think of them as demons. They inhabit the many planes of Oblivion,” Solas looks up at that statement. “Thank you for helping my mages, Blackwall.”

                “It is my duty, my lady,” Blackwall looks around, taking in my quarters. “My lady, I know I have asked many questions but are you the head of this circle?”

                “In a way,” Gesturing with a sweep of my arm. “This is no circle, as they do not exist here. Mages are free to live and practice as they choose, I only lead the college, a place of learning. Forgive me Blackwall but I must ask to speak with Solas alone.”

                “As you wish, my lady.” Blackwall leaves without protest. Solas is left standing next to my garden. The mage lights delicately floating among the plants and branches. Cautiously I walk up next to him. Solas’ eyes are glued on the floating balls of light.

                “Beautiful are they not,” I ask finally breaking the silence. “Something so simple yet so elegant.”

                “Indeed, they remind me of Veilfire.” He reaches out a hand to touch, the light settling in his palm.

                “There is a story you need to hear,” Solas doesn’t move, still holding the light. “There was a group of elves known as The Tribunal or The Three, who ruled for nearly 4 eras. There names were Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil. Once they were ordinary Mer, elves, who found a powerful artifact. That used that artifact to become essentially gods. They rejected the Daedra whom they had once worshipped and were cursed. The Tribunal continued to rule their land and people, until they were betrayed. Another false god by the name of Dagoth Ur tricked them and cut them from their power. Dagoth spread pestilence and suffering through the land. He wanted to expose the Tribunal as the false gods they were and reclaim their old territories, my homeland. It was only through the Nerevarine that peace was restored, but the damage had been done. Does this sound familiar to you, Solas?”

                “It does,” Solas sight, letting the light float back amongst the others. “My people worshiped a group called the Evanuris, they saw them as gods. But I knew them as they truly were, mages masquerading as gods. As any Dalish babe can tell you, I tricked the Evanuris and the forgotten ones, I created the veil.”

                “You once told me that this ‘Evanuris’ was forever at war with the Forgotten ones yes?”

                “Yes, they were gods of evil. Little is known about them, only that they are contacted using ark rituals.” Solas grips his staff tighter. “But I couldn’t let my people be enslaved any longer by false gods.”

                “What you did Solas, protected them. The Daedra take many forms and will stop at nothing to enslave this world,” I move my hand to grip my arm. “When I was in the future, I saw what happened to the world should the veil be torn. Chaos. The world was overrun by demons, the world burned and became Oblivion. Surely that is not what you want for your people?’

                For the first time Solas looks at me.

                “No, I only wanted to restore them.” His eyes are broken and flat. “When I awoke I was horrified to see how far my people had fallen, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

                “Solas, you are my friend, much as I know this may hurt my destiny is to stop the World Eater. This originally meant Alduin but over time it evolved into anything that threatened the world. The Veil being destroyed would destroy the world by allowing Mehrunes Dago to enter this reality. By my honor as Dovahkiin I am sworn to keep evil forever at bay and by my ancestry I am sword to makes sure Mehrunes Dagon can never succeed. Whatever you choose, I only ask that you think of the good of not only your people but the world. In order to reach the future, we must first be in the present.”

                Solas doesn’t respond.

                “We leave for Cyrodiil in the morning.”

                I leave him standing in the garden with his thoughts.


	32. To War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn prepares for war and reminisces on the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I wrote this super fast. So the things related to ancestry in this chapter I know may not be fully canonical, but it is plausible. For the sake of the story it slides. I own nothing. Also I am thinking about making this a series ad starting a new part after this chapter. Let me know what you think.

The ride to Cyrodiil upon the back of Paarthurnax is tense to say the least. None of use have spoken since we left the college before daybreak. I know that they are both anxious to see what awaits them.

                The Spire rises up in the distance, signaling our arrival to the capital. Paarthurnax lands in the circular courtyard. My council is waiting for me.

                “Your majesty, you have returned to us,” I nod then walk past them toward the council chamber. “Your generals have arrived and are waiting for you.”

                My companions trail behind me, marveling at the sights. Pushing open the doors of the council chamber I am greeted by my generals. My thrones waiting for me, the Amulet of Kings resting upon my breast. I seep through the chamber, generals and servants alike bowing in my wake. I take my seat, motioning them to be seated. Every general, ambassador and member of the council is present, good. It is the ambassador from Skyrim who speaks first.

                “What need have you of us, your majesty?” Everyone holds their breath, waiting for my answer.

                “Mehrunes Dagon is making another move to invade Nirn. This time across the sea. They cannot fight the hordes coming alone,” I stand form my throne unsheathing my sword ignoring the gasps from my mention of Mehrunes Dagon. Pointing my sword to the ceiling I reveal the crisis. “Gather the armies, we shall fight him back once more. To war!”

                The chamber erupts into chaos and shouts. I still have more to say.

                “Silence,” My Thu’um rings across the room. “A third of the forces will stay here to protect the people, as will the Argonian forces.”

                 The ambassador from Black March stands in surprise.

                 “Why do you keep us from the fight, your majesty?”

                 “During the first Oblivion Crisis the forces of Black March forced back the daedra, protecting their home. I ask that you do the same now, for all of Tamriel. “The ambassador is satisfied. “I must return to this land soon, I will make my identity known to its rulers. Prepare the troops and send them across the sea. I will make sure to contact the right parties and send ravens detailing the plans.”

                  I leave for my quarters. Once along I summon Lucien.

                  “My Listener.” Formal as always.

                  “Oblivion marches once more, my friend,” Lucien looks up and if he could still show emotion it would have been alarm. “Inform Nazir and all my other seconds to send agents to join the gathering armies. The rest are to protect the people.”

                  “Thy will be done.” I collapse into bed. After I killed the preceding Emperor I had the room redecorated in a style more fitting a Nord. Also, it is creepy to sleep in the bed of a dead person. No one disturbs me, not even my companions, I had made it clear I was not to be disturbed. Sleep takes me.

 

                   Since my youth I was taught of the Oblivion Crisis. Though it happened centuries ago my mother told it to me as if it had happened yesterday. I never understood her obsession with it. Everyone knew the stories of how Martin Septim sacrificed himself to stop Mehrunes Dagon, about how he and the Hero closed the Oblivion gates. The Oblivion Crisis had nothing to do with me. Oh, how wrong I was.

                   In my foolishness I collected Daedric artifacts, becoming the champion of the Princes. It wasn’t until my travels to Sovngarde that I learned the reason behind my mother’s obsession and our persecution by the hands of the Thalmor.

                  Before the final battle with Mehrunes Dagon, Martin Septim and the Hero conceived a child together. They had grown close on their journey, love blossomed, they were wed by a priestess of Mara the night before the battle. This child would be the heir to the throne and last living descendant of the Septim Dynasty, only blood of Tiber Septim left.

                  The Hero knew that the child would be hunted, so she fled, to Skyrim. There she raised her child to be a warrior, teaching them the importance of what had transpired before their birth.

                  Generations passed, with each heir waiting for the time to reclaim the throne to come. As the Dominion gained power they realized that there was no way they would be allowed to return. So, they let the world believe the Septim dynasty had died with Martin, fighting Mehrunes Dagon.

                  Until I was born. On the day of my birth is said that the Amulet of Kings, once though lifeless after the passing of Martin, glowed red once more. The Dominion saw this and demanded answers. Mystic revealed that only an emperor with the blood of the dragon can cause the amulet to glow as such.  Ow could this be, they thought the Septim line had ended. They began their search. Eventually finding my mother and me.

                  It was in Sovngarde that I found I was the heir to the throne. Only surviving descendant of Tiber and Martin Septim. I immediately threw all the artifacts I had collected into the deepest abyss I could find, renouncing my ties to them. Naturally they were not happy.

                  The first time I placed the Amulet of Kings around my neck it glowed a bright crimson. The priest instantly knew who I was. The rest is history. I changed my name to honor my ancestors.

                   Gwendolyn ‘Dragonborn’ Septim.


	33. Journey Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn declares war and starts the journey back to Thedas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the newest chapter. So I am starting shift focus to more daedric influence in the main plot. Thanks for liking, reading and commenting. I own nothing.

The mornings after war has been declared is surreal. There is something about knowing that everything has changed with a simple decree, knowing that hundreds will go to their deaths, that you ordered it. A ruler has little time to dwell on such thoughts, they must act to protect their people.

                This morning is no different. My dreams offered me no reprise. Horrible nightmares of what could happen plagued my sleep. I saw the wolf lurking in the shadows, ever watchful. But I cannot think about that now, I have a war to prepare for.

                Knowing the time for my reveal in Thedas has come I don a set of armor that has been passed down in my family for generation. The Imperial Dragon Armor. Although usually to ostentatious, it shows my status as Emperor better than anything else.  It has crap defense, but if I am to face the nobility of Thedas I must look the part of royalty. I settle the Jagged Crown upon my brow, in true Nordic fashion. I secure the last buckle when there is a knock at the door. It is one of my advisors.

                “Your majesty, the bulk of your armies have been gathered. Preparations have been made. They are waiting for you in the courtyard.” He bows low then leaves.

                It is time. Thinking about how my relationship with all those back in Thedas will change pushes me to the dresser. I search through it until I find my prize. My Amulet of Mara lies cupped in my hands. This too had been passed down to me, my mother told me it was the same amulet that Martin asked the Hero to marry him with. It was a longshot, but I had never wanted to use it till now.

                The final items packed, I make my way to the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The noise is deafening. The courtyard is packed with soldiers. Every race is represented. Odahviing and Paarthurnax sit atop the walls. A hush falls over the crowd.

                “My people, two hundred years ago my ancestor, Martin Septim, sacrificed his life to push back the forces of Oblivion by battling Mehrunes Dagon himself. Now he wants to do it again, this time across the sea,” The crowd sends up collective displeasure. “But we will not let him succeed, this time we shall drive him back. We can not let the land across the sea fall to his tyranny. I do not ask you to blindly follow me, I ask that you do this to protect those who cannot protect themselves, to protect your families, you friends, and most importantly, this world.”

                At my proclamation the deafening noise returns to the crowd. Swords bang against shields. Turning back, I greet my generals and advisors, Solas and Blackwall stand in the background.

                “Have the armies sent to port immediately, it will take two weeks for them to land. By the time I get there I will have revealed myself and arranged everything. I will be leaving early.” Everyone bows, taking there leave to do my bidding. Addressing my companions next. “You may travel with me or with my forces. What say you?”

                 Blackwall speaks first.

                “I wish to remain, my lady. I am a soldier, I belong with an army. I have though long about our conversation of atonement, I believe this would be the best way for me to do so.” I nod my agreement.

                “You shall be placed in a company befitting your skills. May Talos guide you,” I turn my attention to Solas. “And you, Solas? What is your decision?”

                “I am conflicted. I was surer than ever with my goal until I came here and saw this place and its people. The elves here live in peace with the humans and other races. They do not seem to suffer from any ill effects. It gave me hope that one day my people could live as they do.”  He looks at his staff. “The magic in this land is unlike anything I have experienced since I created the veil. Magic runs through the land and your very blood, that is what I want for my people again. If you would permit me, I would study it and this land.”

                “Of course. This land can be unforgiving, but I can set you up in a proper magic institution.” A servant enters. “Please equip my guest with necessary equipment for travels around the empire. Also, please send a missive to the mage guilds detailing his arrival.”

                The servant bows and exits.

                “I hope you find what you are looking for, Solas.” He turns to leave. “ _Dareth Shiral. **[1]**_ ”

                “And to you, my friend.”

 

One of the last things I do before my departure is to visit the Temple of Akatosh. After the death of Martin Septim the Dragon fires dimmed, but did not die.  It is one of the roles of the Dragonborn to keep the fires lit. With Martin’s death the power of the fires weakened, as no Dragonborn emperor had sat on the throne for centuries. I tried to rekindle them but to no avail, it wasn’t my destiny. My destiny was to stop evil, not prevent it.

During my time as a prisoner of the Dominion I often prayed to any divine that might hear my prayer. I prayed for someone to rescue me, no one ever did. Finally, an answer came, a fire long thought dead ignited in my soul. I could not die it that dungeon, I was stronger than that. That fire is what kept me going through all the difficult times in my life. The day I became a recognized dragonborn, was the day I knew who that fire was from, Akatosh.

Religion was never a large part of life growing up, save for festivals and the occasional curse. Finding that you have a divine connection tends to increase participation. Through my travels I carried with me an Amulet of Akatosh to remind me of my destiny and an amulet of Talos to remind me of my past.

The Temple of the One is often quiet, most preferring to worship one of the other eight. In the center of the rotunda is the dragon fire. Before my ascension it was only a flicker of a flame, still even now it is not as grand as it once was. Time has worn away on it. Still duty is duty. I approach the flame. Extending my hand into it. The fire does not burn.

“I, Gwendolyn Septim heir to the Septim Dynasty and last dragonborn, do hereby renew the covenant with my father Akatosh to protect this land.” The flam grows a bit brighter but does not grow any further.

 

Odahviing is waiting for me in the courtyard. He has agreed to carry me across the sea. By his estimate it should take little over a day. The Winter Ball is two. Our first stop is in Denirim to meet with the king. I don’t want my armies confused with an invasion force.

“Are you ready, Dovahkiin.” He leans down for me, allowing me to climb up.

“As ready I can be, friend.” With that we take to the skies.

 

[1] Elvish Farwell. Safe Travels.


	34. Meeting with the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn meets with king Alistair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who like, read and comment. So excited that more than 2500 people have read this piece. Like always I own nothing, sadly.

It does take roughly a day to reach the City of Denirim. Odahviing had to rest for a while on a small island on the journey. As the Denirim came into view more and more people saw us. I could hear shouting below. When we neared the city walls alarm bells sounded throughout the city. Archers posted on the walls shot arrows at us, Odahviing easily dodging them. I spied a large tower where he could land.

                “Land on that tower, Odahviing.” He glides to said tower, powerful wings creating gusts of air which knock back the arrows.  He lands with a mighty thud atop the tower. Immediately we are surrounded by a battalion of soldiers, each one pointing a weapon of some king at us.

                “Not very welcoming wouldn’t you say, Odahviing?” Odahviing lets out a chuckle, the soldiers startle and step back.

                “The _Jul_ act as if they have never encountered a _Dovah._ ” The soldiers startle even more at the sound of his deep rumbly voice. A new voice enters, the one I need to converse with.

                “The people of Denirim have seen a dragon before, only last time it was trying to destroy everything.” From behind the line of soldiers walks the king, Alistair. “Forgive us if we do not warmly welcome you, whom ever you are.”

                “More that understandable.” I reach up to start removing the Jagged Crown. My hair tumbling down my shoulders. “As to who I am, you already know.”

                A murmur goes through the crowd.

                “Lady Inquisitor, this is quite a shock.” Exclaims King Alistair. “Why might I ask are you riding a dragon and wearing that armor.”

                “Well seeing as it takes two weeks for me to reach Thedas from Tamriel by ship, Odahviing was the fastest route.” Odahviing tilts his head at the mention of his name, weapons are once again pointed at him.

                “Who is, Odahviing?” I hear a humph behind my ear, then large steps.

                “I am Odahviing, _Joor Jun_.” Odahviing is snout to face with King Alistair. I have to suppress a chuckle; the king looks ready to pass out.

                “Now Odahviing, be nice, this is a diplomatic mission.” Odahviing huffs backing out of King Alistair’s face. “I am sorry about that, King Alistair, he doesn’t like being talked about like he wasn’t there.”

                “That dragon just talked.” King Alistair says with a shaky voice. “What did he call me?”

                “Yes, he spoke, all dragons can. He called you mortal king in _Dovahzul._ ” Hesitance turns to awe.

                “Where did you say you came from?” This is getting annoying.

                “My name is, Gwendolyn Septim of Skyrim, Heir to the Septim Dynasty, Queen of the Dragons, The Dragon Emperor.” Shock once again.

                “The Dragon Emperor?”  So much confusion laces his voice. “We had heard rumors but never expected this.”

                “I hate to interrupt King Alistair, but there are important things I must discuss with you concerning the current world state.” Alistair’s face turns serious.

                “Of course. What of” He searches for the right words. “Odahviing. He won’t hurt my people, will he?”

                “He will not.” I look to my companion, how tired he looks. “I might ask that someone bring him something to eat, fish or cow will do.”

                “Some food will be brought up to him, as long as he stays here on this tower.” Odahviing humph in annoyance.

                “I will do as asked, mortal king.” At his word we leave.

 

 

                “Why did you land in my city on a dragon?” We are sitting in King Alistair’s office.

                “It was the fastest way to get here. The Winter Ball is tomorrow, and I couldn’t risk being late.” King Alistair takes my answer.

                “What do you need to discuss with me?” He settles into his chair.

                “A war is coming, unlike anything Thedas has ever seen.” King Alistair shifts at the mention of war. “By now you know of the creature behind the tearing of the veil, yes?”

                “We had reports say it was a darkspawn. Let me assure you we can handle another blight.”

                “This is no blight, from what I have gathered a blight comes from the deep earth.”

                “Yes, they awaken an old god and spread over the surface world.”

                “This enemy is not from this word, they are evil being’s hell bent on subjugating this world. Their leader is an immortal spirit of destruction.” King Alistair doesn’t look too concerned.

                “We can handle demons.” I beginning to get frustrated. “The mages we have won’t be possessed.”

                “These are not demons like you are used to.” I have no other option but to show him. “Forgive me for this.”

                Before I can summon the Dramora the alarm bells toll again. The King and I glance at each other than rush to see what is happening.

               

 

                There in the sky is a swirling rift or red, blue and green. It is surrounded in metal. There is a large screeching noise coming from. Then massive hooks attached to chains drop from the rift, anchoring it to the ground. Demons and lesser daedra pour from the rift, scuttling down the chains. It is sheer panic.

                “Sweet Andraste!” Shout King Alistair, drawing his sword. Odahviing is already in the air breathing fire and ice upon the descending forces.

                “Focus your attacks on the anchors. I’ll take care of the chains.” I yell over the din. The king nods calling his men to arms. “Odahviing.”

                Odahviing swoops down, I grab his back foot. We soar up to where the chains meet the rift. Dramora linger around the rift. I jump down onto one of them, plunging my swords into its chest. A wet gurgle erupts from its mouth. Looking to the center of the rift I see an orb, like the one Corypheus had, bingo, the sigil stone. There is nothing for me to stand to reach it, I have to shoot it. More and more Dramora surround me as I take out Auriel’s bow. I shoot arrow after arrow, but they keep coming. I look down and see King Alistair’s forces tiring. Finally, I can get a shot in. I hit the stone dead on, nothing happens.

                I duck right as a sword nearly takes a good chunk off me. It hits me, this is a rift I have to close it like a rift. I once again lift my bow, this time focusing energy from the anchor into the arrow. Letting the arrow fly it crackles with green energy. This time the orb shatters.

                The rift gives a shudder, the entire machine groaning. The center of the rift begins to implode on itself. Time to go. I run for the chains, grabbing onto one starting to slide down it. Halfway down I am going up instead of down, I am being sucked into the rift. I do the only thing I can, jump.

                “Odahviing.” I shout as the wind rushes past me. A large talon latches around my mid-section halting my progress. Above me is Odahviing. “Thank you, my friend.”

                We land safely, the remaining Dramora and demons dispatched by the soldiers. Everyone is exhausted and stunned.

                “What was that?” Demands King Alistair after he makes his way over to me.

                “That was an Oblivion gate. Though it did not look like anything described in the tales. It looked more like a Dark Anchor described in the second era, mixed with a fade rift.” The soldiers are poking at the dissolving Dramora. “This is what I was telling you about.”

                “What were those things.” Pointing at the last body.

                “Dramora or lesser daedra. My people deal with them on multiple occasions. There will be more of them.”

                “What did you want to ask me?”

                “My armies will be here in two weeks’ time.” The king’s eyes go wide.

                “Army?!” He sputters.

                “I assure that it is not an invasion force. They are coming to help with the army of demons and Dramora about to spread over this land.” I explain. “All I ask it that you allow them to make port here, meet with my generals and then send them to Skyhold. I promise that no harm will come to your subjects, you have my word.”

                “Very well, it is obvious that we do not know what these things are, Thedas needs all the help it can get.” What a relief.

                Thank you, King Alistair. One last thing.” He gives me a look. “Might Odahviing and I stay for the night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for the oblivion gate, I know it doesn't fit the ones in the game 'oblivion', I used the model for the dark anchors from Elder Scrolls Online. I though it might add a little more drama. Again melding lore sometimes takes some twisting to fit. Let me know what you think. Next chapter, the reveal. Mwahahaha.


	35. The Long Awaited Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn makes it to the Winter Palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its finally here, the chapter we all have been waiting for, the Winter Ball. So I switched some things up to help make it work. I know how the armor is supposed to work, but I still wanted to keep her identity a secret for a little while longer. Finding DA and Elder Scrolls elven is very difficult if anyone has any suggestions for translators please message me. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far. Special thanks to those who have liked and commented. I own nothing. Without further ado, the long awaited party.
> 
> P.S. Spot the Lord of the Rings reference.

I am beyond terrified.  Facing demons, dragons and gods didn’t faze me as much as this night does. I can see the Winter Palace on the horizon. Odahviing feels me tense up at the sight.

                “What troubles you, Dovahkiin?” I can just barely hear his timber above the wind.

                “I am afraid of what they will think. What he will think.” I know he can hear me as well, dragon senses are far better than a human’s. “Afraid about how they might treat me after.”

                “We all must face our fears in life. No matter what you are, Dovahkiin.” I hug the back of his neck a little tighter in thanks.

 

                To say our entrance caused a bit of a stir would be an understatement. People scattered as Odahviing landed in the courtyard, at least one Orlesian noblewoman, maybe a man too, fainted. I slightly chuckle at the sight, have to find humor somewhere. A guard approaches us, I am lucky that the Jagged Crown conceals most of my face.

                “Halt, what business do you have here?” He stands a good ten feet away, most likely to avoid the potential of getting eaten. “Who are you?”

                “I have been invited by Empress Celene. I am the Dragon Emperor.” A collective gasp goes up from those around to hear. Yet another lady faints, most just cover their shocked mouths with their hands. The guard falters, not expecting my answer.

                “The Empress has been waiting for you.” He sweeps his arm behind him. “Right this way, your majesty.”

                “Feel free to go as you please, Odahviing. Just don’t terrorize the locals, please.” Odahviing chuckles, the party goers back up.

                “Of course, Dovahkiin.” Cue fainting. Odahviing takes to the skies, sending dust and leaves flying.

 

                The party is in full swing as I enter.  I can see Leliana in the back corner of the ballroom. Among the crowd I can see Josephine mingling with dignitaries. There next to the refreshment table I spy Cullen, fending off the advances of some Orlesian maids. No one has noticed me yet. A herald asks me how I wish to be announced. Show time. A pair of trumpets sound, silencing the room.

                “Announcing her royal Highness, The Dragonborn, Heir to the Septim Dynasty, High King of Skyrim, Arch-Mage of the Mages College, Thane of the Nine Holds of Skyrim, King of the Dragons and Emperor of all Tamriel.” The herald finishes right as I ascend the last step. The entire room can see me now. Nothing but stunned silence. Across the dance floor stand the Empress, Celene. I bow.

                “My thanks for the invitation, your majesty. My apologies for the late and a bit disruptive arrival.” The Empress curtsies back. Her cultured accent reverberating around the room.

                “No need to apologize. I must admit that we are all shocked to see that you are not covered in the scales of a dragon, but rather rode one.” Ah yes, the old rumor of me having scales.

                “Alas, I left my dragon armor at home.” The crowd gives a tentative chuckle. I had refashioned the Imperial Dragon armor to look more like plate armor. It successfully hid my gender.

                “Please enjoy your evening.” She then leaves to talk with another noble. Let the games begin.

                I saunter over to a quite alcove, snatching a goblet of wine off a tray a waiter was carrying. I am mid sip when a small voice whispers in my ear.

                “We have been waiting for you, my Listener. We have found the information you have requested.” It is one of my agents of The Dark Brotherhood. I sent a few of them along with a few Thieves Guild Members to Thedas, so that they may establish homes here, thus extending my reach.

                “What have you found?” I ask the shadow. To anyone looking on I would look like I was observing the party.

                “Grand Duke Gaspard’s sister, the Lady Florianne has had secret dealing with the Venatori.” Most intriguing. “We intercepted one of them, it took a bit of persuasion but, they told us that she planned to frame her brother for the murder of the Empress.”

                I chuckle at the mention of persuasion. Knowing exactly what type of “persuasion” they no doubt used. Poor fellow, but when you join a cult following a false god working for an incarnation of evil, wanting to destroy the world, things can happen.

                “Thank you, my assassin. Please notify me if anything changes.” As quietly as they came, the melted back into the shadows. So, the Lady Florianne wishes to take the throne herself, this shall be interesting. I start walking around the upper level of the ballroom. I am besieged by a multitude of Orlesian nobles.

                “We were there in the courtyard when you flew down on that dragon. How ever did you tame it?” It takes me second to work out what she is asking through her thick accent.

                “I didn’t tame him. Odahviing is free to come and go as he pleases. I am their leader not their master.” The nobles murmur to one another.

                “Is it true that they can speak like a human and you can speak their language?” I have a feeling that this is what my night will consist of.

                “Yes, all dragons in Tamriel can speak human tongue, the have their own language which I can speak as well.” This seems to open the floodgates of endless questions.

                “What is the Chantry like across the sea, who is your Devine?” That is a difficult one. I spot Varric next to the refreshment table, grabbing little puffy looking things.

                “I am afraid I will have to leave that unanswered, there is someone I must speak with.” They look disappointed, from what I can tell under their masks.

 

                “Varric, thank Akatosh you are here. I was about to lose my mind form all those questions.” Varric stops mid bit of a tiny cake. He quickly swallows.

                “Firebreather, is that you?” I look him right in the eyes, no one can ever forget my eyes. “Andraste’s arse. Where did you go. You left in such a hurry.”

                “I went home, I had to prepare.” Varric only nods.

                “Where are Chuckles and Hero?” Asking about Blackwall and Solas.

                “They decided to stay, for various reasons.” Varric gives a suspicious look.

                “You know blondie has been out of his mind with worry.” Awe, how sweet. No this is serious. “Ruffles it ticked that you have not showed yet. They have been saying you fell ill.”

                “Varric, as good as this information is, I need you do warn the inner circle about a potential attack on the Empress.”

                “We know, you went into the future and heard about the murder.” Varric counters.

                “Not by an assassin, but by Lady Florianne.” Varric is shocked.

                “The Empress’s cousin?” He takes a quick look around. “How do you know this for sure?”

                “If walls have ears, Varric, so do shadows.” I give him a feral grin, stepping away before I can be surrounded again by questioning nobles.

 

                The party progresses into the night. As the wine flows freely, so do the secrets. Hushed whispers behind gilded masks, though not swords they are just as deadly. Scandalous gossip drips like honey from the lips of servants. Unseen eyes and ears, always listening. My shadow extends further and further.

                I meet the Empress’s spy master, or former spy master, Briala. A slight elven woman, of course wearing a mask.

                “It is a pleasure to finally meet, Dragon Emperor. I must admit you have me at a disadvantage.” I sip on my second cup of wine. I know who Briala is, she may have a network of spies at her disposal, but so do I.

                “A disadvantage you no doubt plan to rectify.” Briala doesn’t react.

                “I am afraid I do not understand.” Putting the goblet down I turn to directly face her.

                “I may not understand this “Grand Game” every Orlesian talks about, but I do know when I am being followed by a spy all night.” I can’t see Braila’s face, but I do see her tense for the barest moment. “Seeing as you have spies all over tonight you must know of the plot against the Empress.”

                “Yes, Celene and I both know about Gaspard’s plot.” That takes me by surprise. How wonderfully twisted this has become. “We plan to expose him later.”

                “Ah yes, but does she know that it was you who murdered their ambassadors?” Briala flinches and steps back.

                “How can you possibly know that. You are from across the sea.” I look into her eyes. A shudder of fear goes through them.

                “Like everyone you heard my titles, yes?” She can only nod. “What they didn’t say out loud is that I am the head of every organization that lives in the shadows of Tamriel. A dragon casts a mighty long shadow.”

                I leave her to her thoughts. It is Leliana who seeks me out next.

                “Inquisitor, a word.” I nearly laugh out loud. Of course, Leliana would know my true identity. She leads us to a private alcove. “When were you planning on revealing yourself?”

                “You know me Leliana.” She does not look impressed. “Till the very last moment.”

                “Varric told me of a rumor he heard. About a plot to kill the Empress, a plot orchestrated by her cousin, Florianne.” She looks pointedly at me.

                “It is true. My shadows would not lie to me.” Leliana hums in thought.  “My shadows have been updating me all night. They say a small squadron of Venatori are nearing the Palace gates. As well as Duke Gaspard’s mercenaries.”

                “Duke Gaspard has brought mercenaries?” I only nod. “How long until they are here?”

                “Two hours at most.” I can see Leliana doing the calculations in her head.

                “I will make sure the Inquisition protects the party goers. Before they get here there is an occult expert that has captured the attention of the Empress. I suggest you speak with her.”

                “Will do. Leliana don’t tell anyone its me please.” She nods before disappearing into the crowd.

 

                This occult expert isn’t hard to find. Everyone is talking about her, almost as much as they are talking about me. I find her on a balcony outside, away from the party.  A woman with raven hair and skin as pale as moon light greets me. Dressed in an elegant purple gown she turns to address me.

                “So, you are the fabled, Dragon Emperor. It is quite an honor, you seeking me out.” Her eyes are lined with kohl, enhancing her already ebony eyes. “I am quite interested in getting to know more about you.”

                “Ask away my lady. The other nobles have not been conservative with their questioning this evening.” She inclines her head.

                “Is it true that anyone can use magic in your land?” I put out my hand, palm to the sky. Flames erupt from the center. “Fascinating. They say that there are many types of elves there.”

                “ _Ma nuvenin **[1]**”_ I answer with a smile. She in turn smile.

                “Wonderful. You do not know how rare it is to find someone who knows elven out side of the elves themselves.” A bell from inside draws out attention. “Lovely as this conversation is I must return to Empress Celene.”

 

                Before those who would do the Empress, harm come I decide to dance. I make my way over to the corner that Cullen has not left the entire evening. He looks bored and tired. Upon reaching him I bow.

                “Might I have this dance, Ser?” Cullen sighs. He can not see me, as his back is turned. He turns as he speaks.

                “I am afraid…” The words stop as he lays eyes upon me. They bulge out their sockets. Cullen then starts to trip over his words. “That is. Of course, your majesty.”

                A lively tune starts to place as we make our way onto the dance floor. I can see a few Orlesian nobles giving me the stink eye for being able to dance with the handsome Commander. They had been trying to all night. Cullen looks anywhere but my face, that is a blessing, I can’t risk him seeing my eyes. Attempting conversation, I speak first.

                “I am afraid that you will have to lead, Ser, as I do not know this dance.” Cullen blushes. Oh, how I have missed that sight. He stiffly starts to lead us into the dance. “DO I frighten you, Ser?”

                “No.” He says rather abruptly. “Well maybe a little. I had heard tales of the frightening, Dragon Emperor. I have met only one other person from your land. It gave me a shock seeing you there.”

                “Who might that have been, the one who told tales about me that is?” Cullen’s eyes take on a warm quality.

                “The Inquisitor, she could not be here tonight. She is ill.” The light goes out of his eyes. “You remind me of her.” Before I can say more a second bell sounds and the music ends.  I bow thanking Cullen.

                “Thank you, Ser, for the wonderful dance.” Cullen bows back.

 

                My shadows inform me that the Venatori are at the gates and the mercenaries are preparing to storm the ballroom. I tell them to dispatch as many Venatori as possible and to delay the mercenaries.

                The final dance of the evening has arrived, and I know who I shall ask. Walking up to the Lady Florianne I offer my hand.

                “Might I have this last dance, my Lady?” The collar of her dress reminds me of a butterfly’s wing.

                “But of course, your majesty.” Her voice is as sweet as moon sugar and just as deceptive.

                I lead us to the floor, following the actions of those around us. Lady Florianne is graceful, like a butterfly. As the song takes a slower turn I lean in to whisper in her ear.

                “How ever did you get mixed up with the Venatori, Lady Florianne?” She tries to pull away, but I hold her firmly in my grasp. “Ah, ah, ah. We don’t want to make a scene now do we.”

                I chide. She speaks, voice like daggers.

                “You know nothing. You are a barbarian king from across the sea.” That one almost hurts.

                “Barbarian I may be, but I am also an Emperor, my family has sat upon the throne of Tamriel for the entire Third Era.” I growl. “Do you know what they call our empire? The Dragon Empire, for only those who posses’ dragon blood may sit upon the throne.”

                “I am not afraid of you. Who will they believe? Some foreign crown of the Empress’ own cousin.” I hear a commotion in the background. Lady Florianne looks past me. I hear the whiz of an arrow approach.

                “ _Yol.”_ The flames of my shout turn the arrow into ash. Screams erupt from the crowd. Venatori surround one side of the ballroom while mercenaries surround the other. Duke Gaspard descends the stairs, sword drawn.

                “Sister, you were to wait for my command.” So, they were in on this together. “Move.”

                I start to laugh, truly laugh. It echoes around the room. Duke Gaspard points his sword at me, I suddenly feel a knife tip press against the small of my back. I laugh harder. I raise my hand, snapping my fingers. Half of the mercenaries and Venatori fall to the floor, dead. The other half find themselves surrounded by Inquisition forces. I turn to address the Empress.

                “Empress Celene, if you would be so kind as to go with the Inquisition forces, for your own safety or course.” Cassandra leads her out of the room. I turn back to Gaspard and Florianne, who has moved in front of me, wielding a bow. “You have prepared for a fight I see.”

                I gesture to their weapons. I remove The Jagged Crown, letting my face be seen fully and my hair tumble down my shoulders.

                “But you could not prepare for a fight with a dragon.” Gasps fill the room. My carefully hidden mark glows green under the glove. Florianne sneers.

                “What is this? The Inquisitor masquerading as royalty?” Her brother laughs.

                “I need no mask to hide behind. I am, The Dragon Queen.” I roar, charging them, twin swords in hand.

                Florianne fires arrow after arrow, I weave to avoid them. Gaspard tries to skewer me with his rapier. I am a flurry of knives and fire. An arrow manages to pierce my armor, sinking into the flesh of my shoulder. My blood boils. Ripping out the arrow causes the wound to bleed profusely. As my blood drips onto the marble floor the duo chooses to goad me.

                “I thought that you were supposed to be this ferocious conqueror. Dragon indeed.” Chuckles Gaspard.

                The golden light of my fast healing spell surrounds me. The wound closes, the blood stops dripping onto the floor. The pair cease their chuckling to on another, looking back at me with astonishment. Before they can do anything, I act.

                “ _Wuld.” **[2]** _ I knock Gaspard’s weapon from his hand, allowing me to angle my swords at his throat. The distinct sound of a bow being drawn goes off behind my back.

                “Release him or I will kill you.” Demands Florianne. Her bow is leveled at my head. Spinning on one heel to face her, the other catches Gaspard in the chest. The impact sends him flying the skittering across the ballroom floor. Florianne releases the nocked arrow.

                “ _Tiid Klo Ul.” **[3]**_ Time slows to a grind. The world becomes blue around me, stilling with the effects of my shout. I calmly walk forward, moving the arrow from its path. Florianne can see me do this, but she cannot act. I rip the bow from her fingers, flinging it in the opposite direction. As the shout wears off and time returns to normal, I grab her by the neck, lifting her into the air.

                “How?” She chokes put, face nearly turning blue. I lean close, my nose touching the one o her mask.

                “I am the Dragonborn.” I toss her aside, she lands next to her brother who is still unmoving.

                I walk to where my crown fell. Replacing it upon my head. The Empress returns to the ballroom, the crowd is silent. Stunned disbelief plain as day behind their masks. Turning to the Empress, I speak.

                “I must again apologize, your majesty, for causing a stir.” In the crowd I find familiar golden eyes. “Please direct any further business you have to, Ambassador Montyliet. Odahviing.”

                The flap of wings can be heard, time to go.

 

[1] “As you say” in DA Elven

[2] First word of whirlwind sprint.

[3] Slow time shout.


	36. Sorrows and Confessions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen confronts the Dragonborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sap warning ahead. Just a warning. I'm not going to spoil it for you. Thank you for reading, liking and commenting. I own nothing.

                Naturally I will be besieged by questions the minute I return to Skyhold. I spend the day it takes to travel back from the Winter Palace alone in the wilderness, reflecting on everything that had happened so far and everything that will happen. The calmness of the mountainside is peaceful. It reminds me of the time I spent with Paarthurnax, on the Throat of the World. The falling snow mesmerizes you, lulling you.

                Using the cover of night, I slip into my apartment without anyone seeing me. Or so I thought. There sitting by the fire place is Cullen at his feet is Talos.

                “Do you know how worried I was after you left?” I wrap my arms around him from behind. “When you flew off on the back of that dragon, then you didn’t show up to the Winter Palace. Low and behold you did, only as the Dragon Emperor.”

                He breaks free from my hold, moving to stand in front of the fire.

                “Seeing who it was under that crown, my heart stopped.” He turns back to me, I am still behind the chair. “How could you lie to me yet again. You made me feel like a fool. Dancing with me and not telling me who you were.”

                My heart clenched and began to crumble. I couldn’t even look him in the eye, my actions had caused him harm. I wrapped my arms around myself, to try and bring some comfort. Talos pads over to ma, nuzzling my leg. The beginnings of tears pricked my eyes. I finally willed myself to face him. The look in his eyes nearly broke my heart in two. They were mad, yes, but there was pleading behind them.

                “Cullen.” I reach out for him. He only brushes my hand away.

                “What can you possibly say, that will take back what you did?” This is what I was afraid of. I try to steal my nerves. Squaring my shoulders, I face him.

                “How old do I look Cullen?” Cullen whips back to face me.

                “What does that have to do with any of this?” He demands angrily.

                “Answer my question.” He huffs.

                “You look to be in your twenties. I still don’t see your point.” I put a hand up to silence him.

                “I am thirty-five. I was seventeen when I faced the executioner’s axe.  I was twenty when I faced the first of the dragons, my brother, Alduin the World Eater. The day of my coronation as High King of Skyrim fell on my twenty second birthday. I waged a ten-yearlong campaign across the entire continent of Tamriel. From the moment I absorbed my first dragon soul my life and destiny were forever changed.” I take a seat in the now vacant chair. “I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to make these moments last forever.”

                “What moments, the ones where you lied to me? The ones where you pretended to care for me?” I stand at that comment.

                “I wanted to keep being Gwendolyn. Not the Emperor or savior of Tamriel!” I shout, pain lacing my voice. Talos whimpers at my feet. “I never pretended about caring for you. I wanted to protect you.”

                In a still small voice I whisper the next part.

                “Because I love you.” A single tear slides down my face. Warm hands lift my face. Silver meeting gold. “You saw me as a person, not a title. Not some near all powerful savior. But as me. Very few have seen me as such for fifteen years and it terrified me. So many have tried to use me for what and who I am. You saw me as this beautiful thing to be treasured. I only wanted to savor those moments.”

                The tears flow like streams down my cheeks, dripping onto the carpet below. I expect more yelling or at the very least hurt. What I do not expect is a tender kiss.

                Unlike the previous this one is tinged with tears, sorrow and love mix together into a bittersweet taste upon the lips. His hands cup my face tenderly, thumb stroking my tear stained cheeks. When we part I can see the tears staining his cheeks as well. He pulls me to him in a crushing embrace, afraid to let me go again.

                “I was so worried I had lost you. I have never felt anything like this before. It terrified me as well.” His voice sound like it is about to crack. “When I first met you on the battlefield at the temple I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This silver haired goddess cutting down demons like they were made of paper. Maker, then you flirted with me. I couldn’t comprehend why this warrior goddess was interested in me.”

                I giggle at the compliments, they sound broken, half sobs.

                “Then at the battle of Haven you were ready to sacrifice yourself to save us all. You exposed your abilities even with the threat of being called a monster. Your power to call down destruction from the very heavens and command a dragon to fall was, terrifying. But you did it to protect us.” His arms hold me tighter. “Finding you nearly frozen in the snow made us all realize the lengths you would go to save those you have sworn to protect. When you fell into the Fade that almost shattered my heart.”

                Cullen releases me, looking at me from arm’s length.

                “You looked past my anger and scars, helped me heal and asked nothing in return.” Pressing our foreheads together. Our breaths mingling. Cullen whispers so only we can hear. “What I am trying to say is I forgive and that I love you too.”


	37. To Become a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions and Answers. A bit of fluff too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't posted in a while, life got busy. Here is the next chapter. It has a bit of fluff. Enjoy. I own nothing. Thank you for reading, commenting and liking.

Knocking rips, me from the most peaceful sleep I have had in years. My eyes slowly open, a small gracing my lips. Cullen and I are curled around each other in what can only be described as a lover’s embrace. I have not felt such happiness for a long time. Warmth fills the normally chilly room. Cullen’s features tense slightly, frowning at an unseen enemy. Running a hand lightly down the side of his face, I try to smooth away the nightmare. His beautiful golden eyes flicker open.

                “Hello.” I whisper, leaning on my elbow my silver hair falls into my eyes. Cullen sits up and traces the path from my cheek down my arm until he reaches my hand, still upon his cheek.

                “Maker you are beautiful.” Awe in his voice. “How did I get so lucky, to have someone like you love me?”

 He then traces the outline of my tattoo on my back. It is the symbol of the Dragon Empire, it is nearly the same as the Empire’s old logo only now the dragon’s wings are unfurled as if in flight. It spread across the entire expanse of my upper back. The very tips of the wings grace the edges of my upper arms. Scars litter my body, some pink others faded silver. I return the favor by stroking the scars that mar his golden chest. I have kissed each one, as he did for me. We spent the night mapping each other.

“It is I who should be considered lucky. I have met Lady Luck. Everyday I will thank Akatosh and Mara for your love.” I lean down, my hair creating a curtain around us. Allowing us our own private world.

“Lady Inquisitor, or should we say, your Majesty. We must discuss what happened at the Winter Palace.” In bursts Josephine followed by Cassandra and Leliana. “Oh, my goodness, I am terribly sorry.”

I stare straight at Josephine, unashamed of my nudity.

“Did you need something Josephine?” I pointedly look at each and everyone of them. Cullen has gone red from embarrassment, hiding his face under a pillow. “If not, I will see you in the War Room shortly.”

“Of course, my Lady.” All three of them scramble to leave, thoroughly mortified. After the door closes I turn back to Cullen who is still red as a snowberry.

“I should go before they decide to try again, or before one of the servants brings breakfast.” I give him one last sweet kiss. Cullen whispers against my lips.

“I love you.” I whisper back.

“As I love you.”

 

Needless to say, neither Josephine nor Cassandra will look at me during the meeting. Leliana just smirks in a corner. Finally, Josephine speaks.

“First of all is the issue of what to call you. Shall we use your official title?” I laugh.

“Divines no. Do you know how many I have? Unless in a formal setting Inquisitor or Gwendolyn will do just fine,” Josephine writs that down on her pad of parchment. “Dragonborn works too.”

Cassandra is next to speak. Her tone angry.

“How can we believe anything that you have told us until this point.” I can see her point.

“I hid certain truths because I knew that they would upset the current balance.” I retort.

“Why?” It is Leliana who asks.

“You of all people should know the answer to that question Leliana. Think of the turmoil it would have caused had I originally identified myself as a foreign power from across the sea. I would have been imprisoned or worse.” I circle the table so all three are across from me. “When I first came to this land I saw something that terrified me. You call them “Tranquil”, I call it an abomination. I was afraid that some may try to do that to me or my people.”

“Speaking of your people I have received a missive from one of my agents that foreign ships have been spotted upon the horizon past Kirkwall.” That surprises me. They were not supposed to be here for another week. “I take it that those ships have your armies?”

Cassandra and Josephine are shocked.

“Armies?!” They shout in unison.

“By no means is this an invasion,” I motion to Leliana. “Leliana, you have heard reports of giant chains falling from the sky in Denirim, yes?”

“My agents did mention something like that.” Tensions in the room start to rise.

“This crisis has escalated beyond what Thedas and the Inquisition alone can handle. My homeland has faced threats like this before. The one in Denirim required my mark, but some others may not. The Inquisition will need all the help it can get. When facing war, it is best to have as many allies as possible.”

 

The next week is spent preparing Skyhold for my armies. Naturally I am set upon by the entirety of the inner circle, each demanding answers. The first to catch me is Iron Bull. He approaches me upon the battlements, talking with Odahviing.

“You know the Ben Hassrath are pretty pissed at you.” I bark out a laugh.

“Not the first, nor the last.” I continue to stroke Odahviing’s neck scales.

“It took some convincing on my part for them agree not to engage you.” Odahviing lets out a snort.

“I would like to see them try. A few _Joor_ are no match for the _Dovahkiin.”_ I lightly slap his scales.

“I’ll not have talk like that, Odahviing,” Turning to Iron Bull, who is gazing dumbstruck at Odahviing. “He is right though. Pissed as they may be, there would be very little they could do should they choose to, how did you put it, “engage me”.”

“While we are on the subject, the Ben Hassrath want to meet you.” Bull informs me.

“I am confused, first they are pissed at me now they want to meet me?”

“Mad as they are about your stunt they still recognize the threat to this world and the part the Inquisition plays in fixing it. They also recognize that they know nothing about you, that frightens them.”

“When do they want to meet up?” I ask.

“The Storm Coast in two weeks.” I nod. I can still feel Iron Bull behind me.

“Is it true that you can talk to them?” I chuckle.

“Why don’t you try it yourself.” I give Odahviing a subtle wink. Iron Bull wearily walks closer to him.

“Umm.” Iron Bull only stares at Odahviing.

“I dislike being stared at, _sadon gein.”_ Rumbles out Odahviing, his large cat like pupils narrowing. Iron Bull’s face breaks into an estatic grin.

“Holy shit, you can talk.” I laugh at Bull’s enthusiasm.

“That I can, _sadon gein_.” Odahviing laughs out, he is being more patient than I have ever seen him be. Bull turns to me.

“What did the Atasshi say?” Odahviing cocks his head. His rumbling voice flowing over us.

“It has been many an era since I have heard myself referred to as such.” I shoot a questioning look to Bull. “Alas I do not remember your kind, nor where I had heard those words.

“What does Ataashi mean?” Bull doesn’t take his eyes off Odahviing.

“It means “glorious one”. It is our word for dragon.” Iron Bull reaches out to touch Odahviing’s scales.

“Tell me about your people, Bull.” Bull’s hand stops short. “I must admit you have offered very little in respects to your life, but I also have not pried”

“My people follow the Qun. Qunari does not describe my people,” He says gesturing to the horns atop his head. “But rather those who follow the Qun.”

“What is the Qun?” Bull doesn’t look at me.

“It is a way of life, not really a religion. The main teaching is that everyone has a place and role to fill. I can’t really describe it, that is the job of a priest.” I can sense he is avoiding the subject, I let it drop.

“I shall leave you to it then.” I turn to leave, Bull still watching Odahviing. “Odahviing, don’t eat him please.”

 

 

I ascend the stairs leading to Vivienne’s loft. She claimed this space shortly after arriving at Skyhold. An elegant couch surrounded by tomes greets me.

“How nice of you to grace me with your presence, my dear.” The icy tone of Vivienne’s voice nearly makes me flinch.

“But of course, who else would visit you in this lofty perch?” I can hear her clothes rustling behind me.

“That was quite a stunt you pulled, my dear.” She pauses. “Or should I say, your majesty.”

I only smirk.

“If I didn’t know any better I would have thought you had been born into the Grand Game.” My smile grows wider. “The nobles will be gossiping about it for months, maybe year. Congratulations, my dear.”

“It makes me happy to hear your approval, Madame De Fare.” Vivienne chuckles at my exchange. “Is that not what the game is all about, scandalous secrets and dashing rogues?”

“That it is. Well played.” We settle on the balcony overlooking the great hall. “Tell me, my dear how did you become a king, let alone an emperor? As I am sure you know I got to where I am today because a noble fancied me, a lowly circle mage.”

“Certainly. I used the sword and my wit. One tool any common man can wield the other any politician, but it takes a true master to wield both effectively.” Vivienne motions to continue.

“I made a mistake by putting a monster on the throne in the first true war I fought in. He was power hungry and mad, and I helped him. His name was Ulfric Stormcloak. He killed the previous king in cold blood by cheating. After I put him on the throne and my year of solitude, I returned to a near shattered Skyrim.” My mind flings me back to my final dealings with Ulfric.

 

I open the door to the Palace of Kings, summoned by Ulfric himself. I knew that he would eventually. There he sat upon the stone throne, lounging, one leg thrown over an arm of the throne. The jagged crown perched upon his brow. Galmar Stonefist stood just next to the stone monolith. I approach the throne. Ulfric gravely voice echoing thru the near empty chamber.

“Ah, Dragonborn, thank you for responding to my summons so quickly.” I nod my head low, not bowing.

“My king, what is the purpose of this summons? If I may ask.” Ulfric stands, slowly descending the steps of his throne. He stands in front of me, I still have not raised my eyes. I feel his hand tip my chin up to look at him.

“I have summoned you to ask you an important question.” His blue eyes boring into mine.

“What question is that, my king?” I can see something in his eyes.

“I want you to be my queen.” I am beyond shock. The man who I saw as a father figure, asking me to marry him. Ulfric continues. “With you by my side we can rid Skyrim of all who would defile her once and for all.”

That pushes me out of my shocked state. What I hear next disgusts me.

“Your power we could show those damned elves the true might of Nords.” I am seething. I move his hand away from my face.

“I am sorry Ulfric, I won’t help you.” Ulfric steps back, his eyes hard.

“You would refuse a king?” I know my next words will damn me.

“Yes.” I can almost hear his teeth grind together in fury.

“So be it.” I think that is the last word before Ulfric bellows. “Guards seize this traitor.”

Identically clad guards pour into the room Stonefist grabs his axe from behind his back. They start close in around. I look around for an escape route, there is one. A window, right behind Ulfric. I will not face the headman’s axe again. I sprint at Ulfric, he starts to draw his sword. But he never gets the chance.

I leap over him, aiming for the window. I tuck my legs and arms in to minimize the amount of glass that could pierce my skin. The ground is fast approaching, the wind rushing past me. I flip onto my back, allowing it to take the brunt of the fall. My breath flies from my lungs and my back hit packed snow and ice.

I groan. Moving to my hands and knees, shards of glass sticking to my exposed flesh. That’s going to bruise. I start to shamble north, I can’t let Ulfric catch me.

I spend the next few months in disguise. Ulfric has denounced me as a traitor, a bounty on my head in every hold. Things start to go from bad to worse. Innocent elves, Argonians, Khajit, everyone not a nord is being persecuted. The day I watched a family of elves ripped from their home by Stormcloaks, the child screaming as the house burned, I knew this couldn’t go on.

I sent a raven to Ulfric saying to meet me at the Blue Palace, I challenged him for the crown. He came, as expected. We fought in full view of the Jarls. Ulfric tried to fight dirty by shouting, but my Thu’um was stronger.

Once I had forced him to his knees I rip the Jagged Crown from him. I throw it across to Elisif, it skitters to a halt at her feet. I am about to address her when I hear Ulfric stand.

“You won’t take my crown.” I turn in time to see him changing me with a blade. It is too late for me to draw mine. I have no choice.

“ _Krii” **[1]** _ I shout with desperation. The purple aura engulfs him, his life force slowly dwindling. The sword falls from his hands. Not being able to support himself he drops. In his last moments he looks at me, defiant to the end. His last words haunting.

“You would destroy Skyrim?”

“No, Ulfric, I am saving it.” I watch as the light goes out of his eyes. The man I had looked up to since childhood, dead at my feet. I turn my attention back to Elisif and the rest of the Jarls. A hand gently grips my shoulder. I look back and up. Jarl Balgruff stands behind me. His face grim. My voice is glass thin, emotions raw.

“I’m so sorry, Balgruff. I betrayed all those years ago. Could you ever forgive me?” Balgruff joins the other Jarls, taking the crown from Elisif.  Returning to me he does something I could have never foreseen. He places the Jagged Crown Upon my head. The weight it bears is nothing to its implications. Balgruff steady voice fills the silent room.

“All hail the High King of Skyrim. All hail the Dragonborn.” At his declaration the other Jarls kneel, soon the entire court follows suit.

I return to the present. Vivienne is enraptured by my tale.

“Is everything in your home so violent?” I give her a “really” look.

“As if Orlais is any better.” Vivienne only laughs. 

[1] Marked for Death first word.


	38. Pranks, Judgment and Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonbor pranks, judges and comforts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late post. So the second song I used is "Sleepsong" from Secret Garden. To clarify the relationship between the Dragonborn and Cole. It is more Mother and child with a bit of older sibling. The love she has for him is agape of family love, not romantic. Cole needs some love too. Thank you for liking, reading and commenting.

To say Sera was mad would be an understatement. Her reaction to me being, in her words, “one of those noble arses”, is understandably explosive. The first time I walk into her little corner of the tavern, she points and arrow into my face. Her voice dripping with malice.

                “Oh, looky here. Some pompous noble come to visit a little guy yeah.” I put my hands up, not wanting to become a human pin cushion.

                “Now here I thought that the nobles wouldn’t be caught dead here. It would be too much for their, delicate senses.” At the word delicate I stick my nose in the air in obvious mockery. Sera chortles in response, slightly lowering her bow.

                “Ya right about that.” We continue to laugh together.

“Are you going to lower that bow anytime soon.” Keeping my voice light.

“Yeah, you aren’t like those ponce nobles. Yer one of the little people.” She unknocks the arrow.

“We good now?” Sere lounges amongst her pile of pillows.

“We good your royal dragoness.” I grin.

“What say you we play some pranks?  Sera jumps right up.

“I know just who to start with.” Instead of using the door, Sera jumps out the window.

 

Half an hour later find us placing a bucket over Josephine’s doorway. When she opens it, there goes her outfit. We gave all Leliana’s ravens a laxative and switched Dorian’s mustache wax with glue. Snickering as we finish our prank we can hear Josephine’s approach. I have not giggled this much since spending time with Cicero. As we sprint out of the great hall all we can hear is a high-pitched shriek. Sera laughs, and we run faster.

 

Dinner rolls around, Josephine isn’t talking to me after the prank. I don’t blame her, having water dropped on you in front of dignitaries, I wouldn’t speak to me either. Seeing as we have visiting nobles I wear my crown. It shocks everyone at the table. The meal proceeds without much fuss, mostly nobles and dignitaries wanting my attention. As the last round of food is being brought out the court bard starts to play.

“Oh, Grey Warden, what have you done? The oath you have taken, is all but broken.” The Bard strums her instrument in the middle of the hall. Her soft voice filling the room. It is a sad song. “All is undone. Demons have come, to destroy this peace we have known for so long.”

I don’t know how much more of this song I can bear; the Grey Wardens were essentially slaves to fear. No one claps at the end of the song, certainly not me. My fist grips my goblet tight as the servants clear our dishes. Josephine sweeps in front of the table, gaining the attention of all present.

“My lords and ladies, though this is not appropriate table discussion the matter can no longer wait. We have gathered here so that judgment to be passed upon, Magister Gereon Alexius and Magister Livius Erimond” Once the words leave Josephine’s lips, the doors to the hall fling open. A bound Alexius is lead by four-armed Inquisition guards. His head hangs low in defeat. I stand to meet the accused as is custom. I can see my council take the place of the nobles surrounding my table. Josephine moves to address the accused, I motion her to stop.

“Magister Alexius, you stand here found guilty of attempted murder, false imprisonment of mages, aiding a false god, and attempted tearing of time and space. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” My voice rings out clear and strong. I have moved from behind the table.

“Would you have done anything different to save someone you love. To restore that which you had lost?” His dull eyes meet mine. This is a broken man.

“I cannot say. But I can say one thing for you. Your son lives.” Alexius perks up.

“Felix? But how?”  I cut him off.

“Magister Gereon Alexius, I hereby banish you from this land. Never to return to Thedas. You shall go to Skyrim and work for the mages there and be reunited with your son.”

I can see the sparkle of tears in his eyes. I can keep and eye on him in Skyrim. Though it may not be a popular decision it is the right one.

“Thank you, Inquisitor.” I hear Alexius say as the guards lead him out.

“Bring out the next prisoner.” I command.

Not long after Magister Erimond kneels bound before on the hard stone. He is not broken like Alexius. No, his eyes still spew forth hate. I have no mercy for this man.

“Magister Erimond. You stand here found guilty of the crimes of murder, blood magic, false imprisonment, aiding a false god and attempting to raise a demon army.” My voice like biting ice. “What do you say in your defense?”

“You are nothing but an imposter. My master is the rightful bearer of that mark. My master will have his army.” Erimond’s vile words seep over everything.

“Magister Erimond, I hereby condemn you to death for your crimes against the world.” Erimond starts to fight his bonds. “You shall die by my hand.”

“You cannot do this! You have no power.” The guards drag him out, kicking and screaming.

 

I retire to my quarters, exhausted from the feast. A shadow follows me.

“Let me help.” I hear Cole whisper. “The crown wears heavy upon you. Your actions weigh heavier.”

“This is not a burden you can help me with, Cole.” Replying, while settling at my desk.

“I want to help more, but I am afraid.” That catches me. Turning my head, Cole has retreated from the shadows now crouched next to seat.

“What are you afraid of, Cole?” The firelight catches his face. Highlighting his pallor, a sheen of sweat upon his brow. Parchment colored skin pulled taunt against a gaunt face.

“I am afraid if what I could become. Those mages, at the tower. They bound spirits, corrupted them. Turned them into demons.” His voice gains a desperate tone. “Don’t let that happen to me.”

Cole launches himself towards me, knocking against my chair, sending us to the ground. A loud thud resounds from the impact. Cole is sprawled atop me, trying not to touch yet wanting contact.

“Cole, no one will ever bind you. You are who you choose to be. Whether it be human or spirit. I can feel in you a great compassion, unlike any other I have known.” Cole’s tortured eyes lift themselves to mine. “That is what protects you, and makes you, you.”

Cole shivers, an almost sob.

“It must hurt, always hearing the pain of others” I feel Cole shift against me. “To hear their feelings. Be at peace Cole. Let someone heal your hurts now.”

The fire crackles.

“Lay down your head and I’ll sing you a lullaby, back to the years of loo-li lay lay.  And I’ll sing, you to sleep and I’ll sing you tomorrow, bless you with love for the road that you go.” It is an old lullaby that my mother would sing to me. I know Cole is no child, but I cannot help wanting to shield and protect him. OT give him some of the healing he gives other, to know love.  “May you bring love, and may you bring happiness. Be loved in return to the end of your days.”

I sing until Cole is fast asleep. Long past the dying of the fire.


	39. An Army on the Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn's army arrives in Skyhold. Morrigan reveals the next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, the army is here. I was so looking forward to introducing the characters to one another. So the song I have at the end of the feast is a rewrite of Age of Aggression and Age of Oppression. I am not claiming anything as my own, I just thought that Gwendolyn being who she is would change the song around to better fit. Again I own nothing. Thanks for reading, liking and commenting.

Reports of demons come pouring in from all over Thedas. Terrifying fiery portals open across the continent. Pleas for help soon follow. The Inquisition is seeing more and more refugees arrive daily. I can only hope my army comes soon. For now, I must plan and make due.

                I find a familiar dark-haired mage in my garden.  She stands under the shade of the gazebo, looking around like a Hawke looking for a quick meal.

                “Get bored of noble parties don fine gowns?” I insure, sliding next to where she leans on a column. Her unnatural golden eyes settle on mine.

                “I found something more interesting to invest in.” Morrigan replies smoothly. Her attire has changed. The ballgown replaced with a strange backless ensemble, the practicality of this armor is lost on me.

                “And what pray tell has caught your eye?” Morrigan chuckles.

                “Why you my dear.” Her golden gaze returns to the garden. “It is not everyday I get to rub elbows with someone of your caliber. But I am not here to gain power.”

                “I highly doubt that, but I will take all the allies I can get.” I cross my arms. Morrigan moves herself from the column.

                “I have something I wish to show you, Dragon Queen.” She walks off into an old chapel.

 

                Must and cobwebs cling to every surface of the chapel. In the back looms a large sheet covered object. I can feel magic radiate from under it. This is something very old.

                “This is what I wanted to show you.” Morrigan raises her arm and in one swift movement divests the object of its cover.

                What stands before me is an enormous mirror. My reflection tiny in its still glass. I turn back to Morrigan who is looking at it fondly.

                “Morrigan, what is this thing?” Morrigan’s attention returns to me.

                “This is an Eluvian, the ancient elves used them to travel to different places and communicate. There are very few left. From what we know they are connected to a place called The Crossroads.” Morrigan gently caresses the metal edging with reverence.  “My sources say that Corypheus is searching for one just like this, so he can unlock the Fade from within. He is also searching for something else.”

                I stop to think. I know the Fade is a plane of Oblivion, Mehrunes Dagon is summoning Oblivion Gates and Dark Anchors to spew Deadra and Demons onto this world. What does he need with a mirror. Then it hits me. Dagon cannot come to this plane like last time, Martin’s sacrifice made sure of that. This Eluvian would allow him to materialize in this realm and there would be nothing I could do. I spin to face Morrigan.

                “Where are the others?” I ask with urgency.

                “I have a clue about where one may be, but it will be difficult to find. It is in the location of what Corypheus is searching for.”

                “What is he looking for?” I ask.

                “He is looking for the Well of Sorrows.” She supplies.

               

                Before our conversation can continue the signal horn sounds. They are here. I rush form the room and garden. Racing through the halls I bump into Varric. He stops me momentarily.

                “What’s the hurry, Fire Breather?” I skid to a halt momentarily.

                “Reinforcements are here.” I breath out. Varric’s eyes widen.

I reach the battlements, lungs heaving, white mist puffs around me. Cullen joins me looking out on the frozen tundra.

                “Gwendolyn, what are you doing up here?” I grin, giddy at what is coming.

                “My army.” I grab his hand in mine and return to scanning the horizon.

                It starts small, a murmur on the wind. The low echo of drums and the hum of a thousand voices. Then at the very edge of sight comes the banner of the dragon, my banner. Sunlight glints off thousands of swords, axes, shields and armor. IT is a sight to behold. I hold tight of Cullen’s hand and together we run back to the platform where I become the Inquisitor. The inner circle has gathered there as well, the people of Skyhold have an air of apprehension. On the wind I hear my people sing.

                “Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin, wah dien vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal. Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan, Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal.[1]” They continue to sing as they enter the gates. The familiar words wash over me, my smile becoming wider. As the army reaches the platform the song ends with a final thud of weapons against shields. With a single move my army salutes me, standing at attention.

                “It is good to see you all. I welcome you to Skyhold.” My voice carrying across the inner walls. “I have summoned you here to help the people of this land, together we shall keep this land safe.”

                The pounding of shields returns at my words. I raise my hands for silence.

                “Generals please see to your men, they shall be cared for and fed.” I give a brief pause then leave. Cassandra follows me as I descend into the ranks.

                “Inquisitor, this is your army?” I glance back.

                “Most of it. I did leave a few back at home for defense purposes.” The entire inner circle is following now.

                My generals are there to greet me at the bottom of the steps. My top three generals for the three types of fighters, Mages, Warriors and Rogues.

                “Generals, report please.” The three stand to attention. Moonclimber, my Khajit rogue general reports first.

                “All members of the Dragon’s Wings are accounted for.” Her accented voice rich. Moonclimber is from Elsewhere, her fur is red with golden spots. Triangular ears pierced with silver studs and bars. I trust no keener eyes save my own.  General Aronldil goes next.

                “The Dragon’s Breath is ready for your command, my king.” Aronldil is a handsome Altmer, golden skin with high cheekbones and green gold eyes. He is general of the mages. My final, public general, is an Orc. General Durrag.

                “Dragon’s Strength ready for action.” Durrag, salutes. A brawny Orc with stout tusks and red eyes. His molted skin standing out against the steel plate he wears. His deep voice rough to the ears, tusks gives a speaker that quality.

                “Thank you for your reports Generals. May I introduce the Inner Circle.” I sweep my arm to those behind me. No one says a word. Until Sera opens her mouth.

                “Inquisy, why is there a giant talking cat?” And it starts. Moonclimber takes it in stride.

                “The small one has never seen a Khajit?” Moonclimber looks Sera dead in the eyes. Sera doesn’t back down, instead she grins and laughs.

                “I like this one.” Moonclimber laughs along with her. I take the moment to explain some things to the inner circle.

                “Moonclimber is Khajit, as you can see she has feline looks, there are many among my army like her. There are many who do not look like anything you have ever seen before. I ask you show them respect, as they are the best of their fields.”

                “My lady.” A familiar voice tugs my attention. There standing in Steel Plate is Blackwall, or Thom.  I reach out and grasp his wrist in traditional greeting.

                “Blackwall, it is good to see you again my friend.” I have chosen to call him Blackwall, as that is who he is to me. “I trust that you have found a place in my army?”

                “I have my lady, it is good to be a soldier once more. I must confess that I have never been apart of an army this diverse. I have learned many new things.” Blackwall motions to those around us. A myriad of Elves, Khajit, Orcs and Humans mill around us, settling into Skyhold.

                “I am glad to hear that, my friend. You must fill me in on how you have fared.” I turn to the rest of the crowd. “But for now. We feast.”

                A cheer rises up.

 

                This feast unlike the others the Inquisition has thrown is in true Nordic tradition. That means ale and mead flowing like a river and enough food to feed an army, literally. There is feasting in all corners of Skyhold. My three factions have started to integrate themselves with the Inquisition. I can see mages comparing spells in the corners, sparks flying every once and a while. Bards sing tales filled with adventure. Iron Bull has challenged Durrag to an arm wrestling contest. Though some are weary of the Khajit, Sera has taken to them nicely. The Elves of Skyhold are astounded by those that have arrived, even more so when they hear their tales. Varric is no doubt writing down this night for the years to come.

                Speaking of Varric, I spy him sitting next to Hawke next to the fire. Heads bowed, small smile and touches exchanged when no one is looking. Good for them, they deserve some happiness in their lives. From what I have heard, they have been dancing around one another for years. Hawke tried to be happy with Anders but was heartbroken when he blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall.

                Cole is having a grand time getting to know new people, he has become more human in these past days. Staying tangible and forging relationships.

                Vivienne and Dorian watch the festivities, to prim and proper, not, for the feast. I occasionally catch them watching the young mages interact. Fiona is near them. This must be a dream for her, mages free of persecution and fear. Allowed to live their lives and practice their skills. It is a sight to behold. One I hope the gods and my ancestors are pleased about. As the feast starts to dwindle Cullen return to my side. He hands me a lute.

                “I heard your men saying that you were trained. May we hear a song?” I oblige.

                “We drink to our youth, of the days come and gone. The age of of darkness is already done. We drove back the darkness and all of its kin. With our blood and our steel, we restored the peace.” The hall is silent. This song was taken from two very similar one, The Age of Aggression and the Age of Oppression. I use it now to sing about restoring peace through cooperation. “Through brotherhood, a golden age. Together we stand against darkness’s rage. We’re the children of Tamriel and we fight our lives, and when duty beckons we heed its cries.”

                The second verse is always improvised to fit the current times.

                “But this land is threatened by forces unseen. Of the planes of oblivion trying to break free.” Boots start to stamp on the floor. “Through brotherhood, a golden age. Together we stand against darkness’s rage. We’re the children of Tamriel and we fight our lives, and when duty beckons we heed its cries. We drink to our youth, of the days come and gone. For the age of darkness is just about done.”

 

[1] First verse of song of the Dragonborn.


	40. Back to the Storm Coast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn returns to the Storm Coast and confronts the dragon residing there.

Birdsong fills my ears, alerting me to the start of another day. Last night was chaotic to say the least. My army was finally settled in, finding places for them to sleep was a nightmare. Integrating them into the Inquisition was relatively easy. The elves were stunned to see each other and speak with one another. Many of the elves of Thedas had never met elves like the ones from my homeland. Of course, they towered over them. Some were still weary of the darks elves, their red eyes disturbing to many. The orcs and Khajit were stared at, but no one dare insult the friends of the Dragon Queen. It will take a little more time to see how they all truly interact with each other.

                Today is the day of Lord Erimond’s execution. I have deliberated long and hard about how his end is to come. I have heard pleas of a quick death, as well as a painful one. It is fine line I must walk, when carrying out an execution.

                The first rays of sunlight filter in from the hole in Cullen’s roof. The morning star should still be visible on the horizon. Cullen lays next to me. I am contemplating what I have to do today. I can hear Talos snoring in the corner, no longer a puppy.

                “I will never tire of this view.” Cullen now awake and looking at me, propped up on his elbows.

                “Which view? The roof?” Cullen grins, sitting up to place a kiss on my shoulder.

                “You.” He mummers against my skin.

                “Sweet talker.” I say as I slide from bed, readying myself for the day.

 

                Executions are always a nasty affair. But if you pass judgment you must be willing to swing the sword. I take the steps leading to the platform slowly. Lord Erimond already waits, hands bound, kneeling. A crowd has gathered to witness this. Cassandra stands next to the disgraced magister, sword at the ready. Lord Erimond looks up once I reach the last step.

                “So, the pretender has come to kill me at last. You call this justice. Taking my head will prove nothing.” I move to stand behind him, facing the crowd.

                “I have not come for your head. You do no deserve a quick death.” Lord Erimond stills. I address the crowd. “People of this land and of across the sea. This man before you has been found guilty of the crime of murder, false imprisonment, and consorting with a false god.”

                There a few boos from the crowd. My people have been filled in about that has been going on in Thedas, they understand the crimes he has been charged with.

                “For his crimes he has been sentenced to death. But not by the sword.” The crowd goes silent. “ _Durnehviir.”_

                From over the mountains comes a roar. The sickly green wings of Durnehviir glinting in the early morning light. He lands to my side, the crowd is still, breaths being held.

                “You have called me, _Dovahkiin.”_ I grab Lord Erimond by the back of the shirt, hauling him to his feet. Lord Erimond tries to drag his feet as we walk towards Durnehviir. Tired of his struggling in toss him roughly in front of Durnehviir’s dripping mah. Durnehviir lowers his massive head to look Lord Erimond in the eye, Erimond shrinks back.

                “You are going to feed to this beast?” Lord Erimond Squawks.

                “If only you deserved such mercy.” I retort, voice hard. I address Durnehviir. “Durnehviir, this man needs to be taken to the Soul Cairn, the “Kind” masters are excepting him.”

                I look down at Erimond, disgust over taking my features. My voice rings out.

                “Lord Erimond, for your crimes I hereby condemn you to the Soul Cairn, where you shall spend eternity with the very demons you consorted with.” Lord Erimond tries to scramble away from Durnehviir’s jaws. He doesn’t make it far before yellow decaying teeth grab him. In a flurry of wings Durnehviir takes to the skies, circling for a second before disappearing in a ring of green flames. Justice has been served.

                Breakfast is boisterous, now even more so with the boost of population in Skyhold. I enjoy watching everyone interact and exchange gossip. Iron Bull Joins me at the head table.

                “You ready to head to the Storm Coast, Boss?” I swallow my food. I had been planning for this trip.

                “Of course, Bull. We leave after breakfast.” Bull grins.

 

                Bull finds me standing on the battlements about two hours later. I had just sent out the bulk of our forces to the Storm Coast.

                “Why didn’t we leave with the rest, Boss. You do know it takes two days to get there.” I don’t say anything. Instead I look out onto the snow-covered land. The beat of wings fills the air for the second time that morning. Odahviing lands on the battlement.

                “Dovahkiin.” He bows his head in recognition. “Grey Skinned One.”

                “Shall we go?” I climb up onto Odahviing’s scales, Bull follows. Odahviing launches into the sky.

 

                We land within hours, rain buffeting us from all sides. I thank Odahviing, sending him on his way.

                “Boss, why did we get here so early. My people won’t be here until tomorrow.” A roar resonates down the coast.

                “That’s why.” I shout over it. Pointing down the beach at the retreating form of a dragon.

                “Ah hell yeah.” Bull charges down the beach.

 

                We reach the dragon’s nest a little while later. I call out to it.

                “ _Drem yol lok, Dovah **[1]**.” _ The dragon turns to look at us, not responding to my greeting. “ _Zu'u los laat Dovahkiin **[2]**._

                The dragon still doesn’t respond. I try one last time.

                “ _Lif daar staad. Zu'u hind ni wah krif. **[3]** _ The dragon only roars, followed by a burst of flames. We roll out of its way. In the ensuing attack I can hear a garbles voice.

                “ _Krii. **[4]**” _ There will be no negotiations. While I hate fighting my own kind, I cannot have any Dovah running around killing people. I doddge out of the way of the purple aura, it is weak but there.

                “Boss, what are we doing?” Shouts Iron Bull. His maul prepped to swing. Around start to gather little draklings, hissing and swiping at us.

                “Keep the small ones off me.” I shout in return. I move my leg out of the way of some sharp hungry teeth. I use the momentum to kick the drakling in the head. It yelps in pain. Twisting, I turn and glare at it, silver eyes forcing submission.

                The Dovah shouts lighting barrages at us. The drakelings have all but scattered, knowing a true predator when they see one. At this point I have two options, subdue or kill. I lower my weapons. Bull shouts at me.

                “Boss, are you insane?” That part is still up for debate. I kneel and wait for the next barrage of lightening. I stand once it is within feet of me. I can feel the crackle of electricity around my face.

                “ _Fus Ro Dah.”_ The power of my shout forces the attack back at its sender. I release my aura, letting the wind whip around me, eyes blazing. The Dovah that I have absorbed are clamoring for my attention. “Odahviing.”

                Odahviing lands next to me.

                “ _Di Jud?”_ He asks. I point to the raging Dovah across the clearing. It retreated once Odahviing showed up.

                “Can you reason with that Dovah? I do not wish to kill anymore of my own but, you know my policy on Dovah attacking mortals. We have had reports of dragon attacks in this area.” Odahviing makes a non-committal noise.

                “ _Zeymah. Dreh Ni Krif Mu. Daar Los Un Jud. Hon Ek **[5]**.” _ Odahviing’s baritone travels across the meadow. The Dovah growls. Fragments of speech can be picked up.

                “ _Krii Joor. Krip. **[6]**”_ I turn to Odahviing, his eyes unreadable.

                “I am afraid this Dovah is beyond hope. It has become a beast, dangerous to all those around it.” Odahviing rumbles.  “They do not even acknowledge fellow Dov. Do what you must Dovahkiin.”

                With that sad statement Odahviing flies off. Killing one of my brethren was never easy, it always felt like I was betraying them. Now that Odahviing is gone the Dovah beast charges once more. Bull ready for the attack. I charge to meet it. It flies up halfway attempting an aerial assault.

                “ _Joor Zah Frul.”_ The beast come tumbling down to earth, wings useless. Once again, I charge to reach it, my blade drawn. I jump as it lands, debris scattering around me. With a sing thrust my blade goes deep into its skull. I watch as the light in its eyes extinguish. A single tear slides down my cheek.

                I step away joining Iron Bull a few steps back from the body. The skin begins to catch flame and burn. As the body begins to turn to ash, golden light swirls around me. Not as much as a normal Dovah but enough. I can feel its confusion and rage. The others move to calm it and integrate it.

                “That was awesome.” Exclaims Iron Bull. He goes over to remaining bones. He grabs one of the teeth, giving it a hard yank. “Dragon’s teeth are prized among my people.”

                “Can’t wait to meet them.”

 

[1] Greeting in Dovahzul

[2] I am the last dragonborn.

[3] Leave this place. I do not wish to fight.

[4] Kill

[5] Brother do not fight us. This is our queen. Listen to her.

[6] Kill mortals. Food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was really conflicted with this chapter. I didn't know where to go with it so I have been sitting on it for a month. I eventually decided to kill the dragon, I know but I wanted Iron bull to get some dragon fighting action. Thank you for bearing with me on updates, life got busy. Thank you for liking, subscribing and commenting. I own nothing.


	41. Demanding Qun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn meets the Ben-Hassrath, sparks fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in three days, whoo, I am getting better. Thank you my readers. I never liked the Qun so here it is. I own nothing.

Back at the camp that night Iron Bull fills me in on the latest Ben-Hassrath reports. Reports of a shipping operation for red lyrium has been found nearby and there propose that we use this opportunity to see how well our forces work together. An agent will meet us at the designated spot tomorrow.

                As always it is raining here, I am sick of it. I almost use clear skies shout, almost.

                “This is the right place? Right, Bull?” Only bushes surround us.

                “This is the place.” Leaves rustle to our lefts.

                “Good to see you again, Hissrad.” An elf emerges from the underbrush. Iron Bull lights up.

                “Gatt! Last I heard you were in Seheron.” This Gatt gives a small smile.

                “They decided I had calmed down enough to be released back into the world.” Odd.

                “Boss, this is my friend Gatt. We worked together back in Seheron.” Finally, someone from Iron Bull’s past.

                “A pleasure, Gatt. I apologize for the weather but alas.” That gets a chuckle out of Iron Bull.

                “It is an honor and a privilege to meet you, Inquisitor. Or shall I call you the Dragon Emperor?” Gatt bows. “Imagine our surprise when this piece of information was left out of the reports. But Hissrad was always known for that?”

                “I am assuming Hissrad is another name for Iron Bull.” I look to Iron Bull. He gives a sheepish look.

                “It was his title. We do not use names under the Qun. It meant liar.” Gatt explains. Having a name in place of a title is nothing new to me, many communities in Tamriel use the practice. Iron Bull looks displeased with Gatt’s statement.

                “You didn’t have to say it quite like that. You can’t blame me for not knowing her identity, none of us knew.”

                “I know Hissrad. I know how things work out here, unlike our superiors.” Gatt turns back to me. “The Ben-Hassrath are extending this to ensure that this red lyrium does not fall into the hands of the Tevinter Imperium. Our dreadnaught is awaiting our signal after we dispose of the Venatori on the shore. We can talk terms after we dispose of the smuggling ship.”

                “Lead the way.”

 

                Gatt informs us of the two possible locations for the Venatori to attack from. Bull places his chargers in the sport opposite us. We easily dispatch the few Venatori camped there. We signal the dreadnaught. Bull waves at his chargers on the other side of the bay.

                “This brings back memories.” Bull smiles as the dreadnaught sinks the smuggling vessel. “Crap.”

                Across the rainy bay I can see an entire party of Venatori mages start to close in around the chargers’ position. I turn to Bull.

                “Bull signal the retreat. If they stay, there they will die.” Gatt interrupts Iron Bull before he can respond.

                “Do that and the dreadnaught will sink and this whole operation is wasted.” Bull looks to both.

                “Bull.” I catch his attention. “Throw me.”

                “Boss?” Disbelief in his voice.

                “Throw me. Tell you chargers to stand down. I can take on a few Venatori.” Bull picks me up and hefts me to his shoulder, throwing me across the bay.

                I land on one knee, the earth ripples under the impact. The Venatori shift their attention from the chargers to me. The sound of the retreat can be heard. This is going to be fun. I roll to dodge a fireball aimed at my head. I counter with an arrow to the chest. I retrieve my daggers, easier for close quarters. I slash the throats of the two closets Venatori. Twin ice spears fly my way, I quickly bring up a ward to deflect them. The two mages who shot the ice are standing a good 20 feet away. They bot shoot another pair of ice spears at me. This time I am ready. I propel myself upward to twist of the spears. As I do I send the daggers hurtling into their hearts. Around me lays carnage.

                The dreadnaught now easily pulls into the harbor. Iron Bull and Gatt join me on the beach. I retrieve my blades from the Venatori’s flesh.

                “That was some fine fighting, Boss. I owe you one.” He claps me on the back.

                the gangway is lowered from the dreadnaught. Qunari soldiers pour out of the ship. All are warriors, a few have the odd rod type things in their hands. I wonder what they are for, then I get my answer. Behind all the rest of the Qunari come a group of masked and chained individuals.

                “Bull, are they criminals?” Iron Bull looks at me with a pained look in his eyes.

                “No, they are Saarebass, mages.” I feel as though I may be sick. I clap my hand over my mouth, shock and horror on my face. I thought what the chantry did to mages was terrible, this is a nightmare.

                “Why are they in chains, Bull?” Gatt answers that one, a casual tone in his voice.

                “Because they are dangerous and must be controlled.” My blood boils. No one deserves to be I chains for something that isn’t their fault. To be thought of as nothing more that a weapon, an animal to be chained.

                “Boss, your hands.” I look down and my hands are aflame, hissing in the rain. I have had enough of this rain.

                _“Lok Vah Koor.”_ The incessant shower immediately dissipates. At the same time, I am surrounded by Qunari soldiers, swords at my neck.

                “Boss, that wasn’t a good idea.” I flash Bull a glare.

                “No Bull, I don’t think this whole thing was a good idea.” Training my gaze on those with their weapons drawn up my neck. “Are you going to chain me too. Like some rabid dog to be put down?”

                I push the blades away, Gatt waves for them to allow me so. I walk forward to one of the chained mages, placing my hand over their chained ones, they flinch. I try and sooth them.

                “You do not deserve this; your magic is a gift.” As if they were twigs I snap their chains. They land with a soft thud in the shoreline mud. Bull is shocked.

                “Boss, what are you doing?” I respond without looking at them, reaching to remove the Qunari’s helm. What is underneath shocks me. Their horns are filed down, from what Bull has told me about horns that must have been excruciating. What is worse is their mouth is sown shut. I try to catch their gaze, but it is dead and unseeing.

                “Freeing them.” Gatt scoffs.

                “They are free.” I bend down grasping the fallen chains. “They are revered because they must fight against this evil inside of them.”

                Not standing back up I hold the chains loosely in my hands.

                “Do chains make someone free?” I reply darkly, returning to my original position, chains still clutched in my hand. “You can no more chain magic that you could chain the wind.”

                I continue speaking, head tilted to look at the now clear sky.

                “Did you know that everyone in my homeland can use magic? Some better than others.” Brining down my head to face the onlooking Qunari soldiers. “But did you also know that my royal blood extends from not only the first of my line on the male side? No, I am the descendant of the Slave Queen, Breaker of Chains and first user of the Thu’um. To chain my magic is to chain a part of me. But to chain my voice is to take away my very soul.”

                “They are a danger to themselves and others, we must keep them contained?” Gatt exclaims, Iron Bull is standing in the back unsure what to do.

                “Why did your people set up this meeting.” I turn to Gatt, motioning to all the soldiers. “Surly a single smuggling vessel does not warrant such a large force?”

                His silence says it all., my silver eyes bearing down on him.

                “I see. Would you put me in chains too? Stich my mouth so my voice could not be heard?” Bull pushes his way through the ring surrounding us.

                “Gatt? What is the meaning of this?” He stands between us.

                “Our superiors don’t know what to make of her, Hissrad.” He points an accusing finger at me. “A woman from across the sea who not only rides a dragon but speaks like one. Our scouts saw what she did yesterday, she took the very soul of a dragon, Hissrad. She is dangerous.”

                Iron Bull is stunned by his friend’s accusations.

                “What’s more my superiors are question your loyalty to the Qun. It took everything I had to convince them otherwise. You can’t tell me you do not see how much you are giving her, Hissrad.” Iron Bull doesn’t meet his eye. “Would you throw away everything you have ever know, everything you are? For her?”

                I interject.

                “Iron Bull, is free to come and go as he chooses. I do not demand blind obedience. I do not use chains to keep my comrades by my side.” Motioning with the chains. “You claim I am a monster, yet it is you who chain your own people and treat them as nothing more than weapons.”

                I spit out that last part. Throwing the chains in his direction.

                “But I guess that is something you wouldn’t know about would you, choice that is.” I glare Gatt down, which is fairly easy considering my height. “From before my birth my destiny was foretold by the very gods themselves. I had choice ripped from me. I would never do that to anyone I cared about, and I don’t think I could ally myself with someone who does.”

                I shove my way out of the circle. Before I leave I send one last message.

                “The Inquisition is open to all those who wish t be free.” A few of the mages head’s raise at my statement. “Iron Bull, whatever you choose, do it for you. Do it for who you want to be.”


	42. Rift Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn heads to the Exalted Plains, history is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have had more time to write recently. Hopefully this means more than one chapter once in a blue moon. Thank you for the comments and kudos. It has been one year since I started this project. A special thanks to all those who have encouraged me and offered ideas. Thank you for sticking with me. I own nothing.

The ride back to Skyhold is quiet, Iron Bull silently brooding about his choice to leave behind all he had ever known. The silence allows me to reflect on my own life choices and those I have followed in my life time. In my youth I was desperate for an escape from my destiny, I took every avenue available to me in attempts to avoid the inevitable. But all roads led to Alduin, ever choice I had made, right or wrong, brought me to Sovngarde. In my fight for freedom I came to cherish it, relish in choice, so when the day came that it would be mine I would not squander it. Through my many years of adventuring I saw freedom taken from those who could not fight, choice ripped from them.  It was their plight which drove me to strive for a new age.

                Two days from Skyhold, Iron Bull breaks his silence. His voice slow and methodical.

                “Boss, what you said about your destiny being written before you were born.” I incline my head towards him as he finishes his sentence. “Was that true?”

                “In the 2812 year of the First Era, an Emperor by the name of Emperor Reman Cyrodiil II started construction of what came to be know as Alduin’s Wall, in Skyhaven Temple. On that wall a prophecy was written.” I recite the next part, clear as the first time I read it all those years ago.

“ _When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world_  
When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped  
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles  
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls  
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding  
The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.”

                Iron Bull gives a questioning look, my other companions have started to listen in as well.  Cassandra asks the next question.

                “What does it mean?” We have stopped to make camp at this point.

                “It tells of the end of the world and the events that herald it. I am the Last Dragonborn as I have told you. According to that prophecy it is my job to prevent the apocalypse.”

                “Shit.” Exclaims Varric.

                “My destiny was forged 1,600 plus years ago. It was literally set in stone.” I let out a weak chuckle at my pun. “So, I understand how hard it can be to be forced into a role with no choice about it. Sometimes I get lost in my own titles. Choosing your own path is a gift, use it as you will.”

                With that final statement I retire for the night, leaving them to think about what I have revealed.

 

                The whisper of my tent flap being opened wakes me. I don’t even crack an eye.

                “I would not do that if I were you, friend.” A low voice hisses back at me. I open my eyes. It is a Qunari holding a glowing orb.

                “You are no friend to the Qun, Atashi Katari.” The Qunari and the orb start to inch closer to where I lay. I ready myself for a fight. My tent flap opens once again a flurry of motion. Familiar horns knocking into the attacker. The Orb goes flying.

                “Are you alright, Boss?” Iron Bull asks, helping me to my feet. “That bastard was going to does you Qamek. Another one tried to poison me but luckily I gained an immunity from dosing myself with the antidote.”

                “A hit? That Qunari called me something.” Bull nods at my first statement.

                “You really made an impression, for me it was a formality, for you it was a hit. They see you as a threat. What did he call you?”

                “Atashi Katari.” The camp has been alerted to the intruder and has started to search for any others.

                “It means Dragon who brings Death. They may find you a threat, but they recognize your power.”

                “Thank you for helping me Iron Bull.” Iron Bull inclines his head then takes look out for the rest of the night.

 

               

                Reports of Oblivion Gates and Dark Anchors greet us on our return to Skyhold. My generals have begun he task of hunting them and closing them. The Fade Rifts can still only be closed by me. The war has begun, the war for Thedas’ soul. A report from the Exalted Plains comes in. Cullen address the war council.

                “We have received word from sources on the Exalted Plains, a massive Rift Anchor has been spotted in the area. Demons have been pouring out and amassing a large force. Some reports talk about the dead starting to rise.” Dark Anchors mixed with Fade Rifts have become known as Rift Anchors. “We have sent a large portion of our forces there to deal with it. By our calculations the army shall have reached the thousands by the time ours get there.”

                It is my turn to address the council.

                “I want the one third of each section to prepare for a long march. Bring everything we do not know what awaits us. Tell the mages to stock up on soul gems and enchant the warriors’ weapons with dispel undead and daedra enchantments. Dismissed.”

                The council exits to carry out my orders. Cullen stays behind. He hugs me from behind.

                “I hate it when you go off.” He says nuzzling my neck. “My heart sinks every time you leave through those gates then leaps at the sight of your return.”

                “I know my love. I hate leaving but this is my duty to uphold.” I twist in his embrace to cradle his face. “I will always come back to you.”

 

 

                The reports weren’t wrong, when we reach the Exalted Plains, black clouds stretch to the horizon. An awful metallic noise filling the air. We find a small band of remaining Orlesian troops at the very edge of the Plains. They greet us, weary etched upon their dirty faces.

                “You couldn’t have come at a better time.” Relief in the soldier’s voice. Clearly, they have been fighting for some time.

                “How many are there now?” The soldier shrugs.

                “Hard to tell, we stopped counting when our last scout was killed, about four days ago. They have not left their position. It is like they are waiting for something.” He gives pause.

                “Rest now soldier, we shall take it from here. Healers.” A group of two restoration mages step forward, tending to their wounds. “We make camp here, tomorrow we send those scum back to the hell from whence they came.”

 

                A veritable wall of Deadra and demons greets me on the battlefield. My men are ready, as am I. Odahviing is carrying me into battle. The horde charges as the first rays of what little sunlight penetrates the darks clouds reaches the horizon. Odahviing takes to the sky.

                “Yol.” A jet stream of fire erupts from his jaws, turning the dry grass of the plains into a raging inferno.  Shrieks and squeals of pain can be heard of the roar of the flames. It slows down the initial wave of forces. My next move slows them even further.

                “ _Mah Lok Yol. **[1]**” _ Fire rains down from the black clouds, bombarding the horde with rock and fire.

                My shout takes out a good chunk of the charging horde, but more follow. They break through my wall of fire. I have Odahviing fly low so that I can join my troops. I slide to s top in from of the center.

                “Release the hounds.” I shout pints my sword at the oncoming force. A horde sounds. Mabari and War dogs from Tamriel run past me into the onslaught. The two forces collide with one another. More pour through.

                “Trebuchets and Ballista’s, fire at will.” More fire flies over head. Their impact sends shock waves, throwing daedra and demons five feet in the air. The ballista spears are enchanted with expel daedra and demons. White light dots the battlefield. Still they persist. I shout to my army with further instruction.

                “Mages, Summon Attronachs.” The command is passed along through the ranks. Soon Dozens of atronachs bolster our ranks. Second mage faze is carried out. “Mages, cast ward.”

                A silvery wall of light surrounds our front. It shall give us a small amount of time to prepare.

                “Archer, let loose.” A hail of arrows falls upon the daedra. “Warriors, ready your weapons.”

                I heft my blade, readying for the attack. The wall of daedra slams into the ward with incredible momentum. After the initial shock it shatters like glass. I sound the charge. The two armies class upon the battlefield.  Like two unmovable forces trying to push the other back.

                Deadra after daedra falls to my blade. The mark on my hand burns from using the Fade Rift so many times. I am littered with cuts, blood soaking my armor. In the chaos I have lost my companions. I fail to notice the daedra sneaking up on me, until I hear a loud bark. I spin just in time to see Talos sink his fangs into a daedra poised to strike. He is covered in blood and as happy as a clam. I give him a quick pat.

                “Good boy. Did Cullen send you?” Talos barks happily. “Let us go find the rest of my friends then.”

                Even the best laid plans fail when brought to battle. Pure chaos surrounds me, death on every side. I revel in it. My army fights with ferocity, mages, warriors and rogues in perfect balance. A mage would freeze or trap an enemy while a warrior would dispatch it, the rogues sniping enemies before they can get close.  Like a well-oiled machine.

                I slash my way through the battlefield. I am nearing the Rift Anchor’s base. I catch glimpse of Blackwall fighting to my right, Cassandra and Dorian not far. All three are fighting a trio of Xivilai. I sprint to their sides, charging chain lighting.

                “Duck!” I shout, managing to catch their attention. They do so, the lightning sizzles over their heads, sparking form Xivilai to Xivilai. The Xivilai had been bloody, they disintegrate with the hit. My companions rally around me.

                “Inquisitor, we need to stop this now.” Cassandra points at the Rift Anchor, daedra and demons continue to pour out. “We can’t fight forever.”

                It is time for the final push.

                “Blackwall, fall back and signal the mages to “light the beacon of Merida”.” Blackwall nods in understanding. “Cassandra and Dorian, with me. Its time we close this thing.”

                We take off for the base of the Rift Anchor, its giant chains dug deep into the earth. I engage the daedra on the closets chain. Ducking as it swings a large battle axe over my head. Dorian freezes it, allowing Cassandra to shatter it to a million pieces. The chain is devoid of any demons for now. I grab hold of one its giant links.

                “Keep them off the chain.” Dorian and Cassandra ready for the next wave of attacks.

                The wind buffets me the closer I climb to the black and green center. A flash of green light arches across the black sky.

                “You cannot stop this puny Dragonborn.” It is Mehrunes Dagon.

                “I would tell you to go to Oblivion, but you are already there.” I laugh at my joke as I climb.

                “You dare mock me?” His indignant voice ringing through the sky.

                “I believe that was what I was doing, yes.” I snap back.

                “Oh, how I can’t wait for the day my servant tears you in two and delivers your soul to me.” Cue maniacal laughter.  I have reached the center ring.

                “Sorry to disappoint. Runs in the family, you see.” I retrieve Auriel’s bow, charging the Rift Mark. It hits its mark; the collapsing Rift destabilizes everything around it. This time I take off sprinting down the chains, fast as I can. As my arrow left my bow, a horn sounded across the battlefield. All at once a brilliant white light banished every shadow and along with it, the remaining demons and daedra.

                My landing on the ground jar my bones, throwing up dust. All goes still, then a cheer erupts from the settling dust. The troops see me and start to sing The Song of the Dragonborn in victory. Cassandra, Dorian and Blackwall approach me.

                “My lady, you never cease to amaze.” Blackwall bows.

                “Enough of that, lets get the wounded treated and help the refuges. I hear there is a Dalish Camp in the area that may need help.”

 

 

[1] Fall Sky Fire. Meteor Shout used by Alduin in Helgen. Possible translation.


	43. Hanal'ghilan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn meets the Dalish and has a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that it has been a few months since I last posted and this is the same chapter. But I made some revisions to this chapter that will help it make better sense. No major plot changes I promise. I will try to make more regular posts from here on out. Thank you for sticking with me and liking, commenting and most of all reading it.

 

As is custom after a hard won battle my army mourns the dead. Bonfires dot the plains, music and singing erupts next to some. While I have brought together each of the races they still mourn their dead i9n their own ways. Nords honor the dead with feasts and celebration of their lives, tales of heroic deeds sung deep into the night, flowing as freely as the mead. The souls of the departed are lifted to Arkay and Kyne where they shall guide them to Sovngarde. Many would send their dead back to Tamriel to be buried in the tombs of their ancestors, but in times of war the dead are burned.

In keeping with the Green Pact, the Wood Elves create weapons and keepsakes from the departed. These items will be sent back to their families.

I am at the head camp watching all this unfold from my seat. Firelight creates shadows that dance in time in tandem with bodies. Drum beats echo across the plains. Messer and Secunda reach their zenith. I rise from my seat, the music and singing halts. Lifting my glass for the final toast of the night.

“My brothers and sisters. We stand here on foreign soil, soil that this very day has drank the blood of our comrades, our brothers, sisters, friends and lovers.           In times like these it is easy to question why you follow me willingly into the fire. I honor those who made that sacrifice for me, for Thedas, for those who cannot defend themselves. True that this was not their fight, yet they headed the call. For they believed that it was right. We lift our glasses now, to those who have passed into their ancestors’ halls.”

The crowd lifts their drinks at my cue.

“To the Heroes,” I shout. The crowd cheers back.

“To the Heroes.”

 

Rest after bloodshed is fitful at best and nightmarish at its worst. The images of the carnage and the dead play back over and over in the mind. Dreams are warped by fire and pain. Screams ring in the ears long after their source has gone silent. Sleep offers no escape from reality on these nights.

                That is what I expect from this night, to be plagued till the sun banishes darkness once more. I do not expect to see Haven laid out before me. White fresh fallen snow glittering around me.

                “Hello, Inquisitor.” A voice calls out calmly from behind me.  Without turning around, I know to whom that voice belongs.

                “Hello, Solas.” I feel Solas’ aura walk towards me. “It is beautiful. To see it as it once was.”

                “I thought it might make you feel more comfortable to see me in a familiar place.” We both gaze out at the capped mountains. After a few moments of silence, I speak.

                “How fare you travel, falon?” For the first time I turn to look at him. He looks the same as ever, only he is wearing a cloak, and no longer carries a staff.

                “Your land is a wonder to me. It contains no traces of what I thought to be Elvhan culture. I have dreamt of ancient civilizations. I have seen your ancestors.” He lets the last part settle.

                “So, you have seen my reasons for reacting as I did.” Solas nods. “I can understand your reason for doing what you did. Both times.”

                “I have seen Martin Septim’s sacrifice. While your land does not have my culture, it did have mortals who claimed to be gods.”

                “You mean, The Tribunal?”

                “Yes, their rise and fall mirrored that of those I once knew.”

                “Isn’t that what our two lands are? Parallels of each other.” I give a cynical laugh.  “Its poetic that Mehrunes Dagon want to use a mirror to enter this plane once more.”

                This snaps Solas to attention.

                “A mirror?” Solas asks.

                “Moragan called it something fancy.” I reply, trying to think of the word.

                “An Ehluvian. What else did she tell you about. Are they searching for anything else?”

“She mentioned one more thing, The Well of Sorrows.” Solas goes stiff.

“Wait for my return to Skyhold.” As his outline starts to shimmer.

“Safe journey, Solas.” The dream melts away.

 

                I jerk awake in a pool of sweat. My chest heaving for breath. My latest nightmare fresh in my mind. Nightmares about Alduin returning and the world once again being engulfed by his rage and fire. So much depends on me, sometime sit feels like I have lived a thousand lifetimes not just one. My soul is weary and heavy.

 I peek my head out to see the moons have reached the western horizon and the stars yet shine. Without dressing I leave camp, being careful not to wake anyone. The sentries see me but say nothing. The cool wind blows the smell of death away from me and leads me to a river.

                The last rays of Masser and Secunda’s light are reflected on the river’s surface. A silver ribbon cutting through the land.  My feet slip into the chilled water. Walking until I am surrounded by water up to my knees.

                “Between the here, between the now. Between the North, between the South. Between the west, between the East. Between the time, between the place. From the shell the song of the sea. Neither quiet nor calm. Searching for light again.”

                I turn to face the rising sun and find myself watched by a beautiful golden creature with horns of pure silver. They elegantly twist and turn like vines upon a tree. The creature makes its way towards me. I match its pace until we are both standing in the river.  There is an aura around this majestic creature that compels me to bow. The small waves of the river lap around my body, soaking what little clothing I have on. I feel its nose touch my forehead in a blessing of sorts. In my mind I hear a voice, clear as the rising morn.

                “Dear Dragonborn, do not despair. Though much has been asked of you, I too must ask of you. Please protect my people. They wander, lost in confusion of not knowing their history. I have tried to lead them but my time here is fading quickly. With each year that this land is cut from the Atherium my power diminishes. Soon I shall return to the earth. Please Dragonborn, protect them.”

Lifting my head, the risen sun temporarily blinds me. The creature, or spirit is gone, only the feeling of great urgency is left. I need to find those Dalish and quickly too.

 

Finding a Dalish encampment is harder that originally thought. The fighting must have driven them deep into the forests. My party and I come across some ruins, burial grounds. We take a moment to investigate. I go deeper into the structure wishing to pay my respects to the dead.

Descending the stairs, I reach a circular room with brazier all around. Solas had once said that these are for Veil Fire. I speak a prayer that my mother had taught me.

“May Arkay guide the souls of those who have departed.  Mara’s love shine upon them in eternity. Mercy of Stendaar guide their path. Light of Akatosh bless them. Ancestors call them home.” I recite this prayer while keeling in the middle of the circle. I lead into my oath as the Dragonborn.

                “By my honor I am sworn to keep evil forever at bay. Father Akatosh here my prayer, bestow upon me thy blessing, renewing the pact made with my ancestors.”

                The braziers ignite with fire, crimson in hue. Their light reveals what darkness had hid from me. All around are wounded elves. Men, women and children, injuries riddling each one. I call out to my companions.

                “Quickly down here.” I dash to the nearest one, a child and her mother. “What happened?”

                The mother weakly replies.

                “The Demons came, they burned our land ships. We ran here.” The mother coughs, a wet cough signaling lung filling with fluid. “That was three days ago, some of us became sick after they attacked us, those who became sick turned into monsters.”

                She points to a far corner, in the shadows I can barely see a grotesque form.

                “Was there any ash?” I ask the mother.

                “Yes, they came with a cloud of red ash.” The mother falls silent, trying to conserve what energy is left.

                My companions arrive moments later. I ask them to gather all those still alive into a circle around me. Once that is done I charge my spell.

                Golden light spills into every crevice, expelling all shadows. Magic flows through this place. I felt a change once I had lit the braziers. My hair whips around me as I pour my magika into the spell. They aren’t fully healed but they are stable now, we can get them all to safety. Murmurs erupt around me as the spell tapers off.

                “Hanal'ghilan.[1]” A man steps forth from the group.

                “Never has a shemlen shown so much care for what happens to us. We go where you lead Hanal'ghilan.” I can only nod. We help them from the ruins, starting the long journey back to Skyhold. As we walk back to camp I ask the man who had spoken to me.

                “What does Hanal'ghilan mean?”

                “It means Golden Halla, it is said that in times of great need a Golden Halla with silver horns will appear and guide the clan.”

                “Why do you call me it?” He points to my hands and hair.

                “We have never seen a shemlen with silver hair such as yours and golden light poured forth from your being. You saved us, showed respect to our departed and restored the Veil Fires. You are truly blessed.”

 

 

 

 

[1] Golden Halla

              


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So life has been busy with school and everything else on top of it. I won't make excuses and will try to get a more regular schedule back. Thanks for sticking with me.
> 
> The Dragonborn returns to Skyhold to be greeted by a not so welcome party.

Skyhold, truly it is always a sight to behold. The biting wind stings my cheeks brining forth a ruddy hue. But it is not only the snow that brings a flush to my face, but rather the face of one who is waiting for me at the gates.

                My golden lion with the amber eyes. Cullen embraces me as soon as I step foot in the courtyard.

                “You are safe.” I hug him back, feeling his arms tighten around me.

                “I promised I would come back.” I whisper into his mane.

                Our moment of tenderness is quickly ruined by the latest crisis, this one came with golden ruffles.

                “My lady, I know that you have just returned from battle, but we must discuss some rather pressing matters.” I let go of Cullen with a heavy heart. He gives me an apologetic smile.

                “Later, my lion.” I say with a wink that leaves his face as aflame as mine was.

 

                Josephine leads me to the Hall of Judgement, as it has been named. Three people wait at a table close to my “throne”. One has a mask indicative of being an Orlesian, the middle person is a woman bearing the colors of the Chantry. The final man I cannot place his attire. Reasonable guesswork would make him an envoy of Fereldan.  The Orlesian stands first, her clipped and fake tone grating.

                “Lady Inquisitor, thank you for joining us.” I stop in front of the table. I almost give an eye roll, alas I must make due with sarcasm.

                “My apologies for keeping you, my lady. War does take a chunk out of one’s social calendar, as does leading an army.” I can hear the Fereldan Ambassador chuckle at my comment. “How may I be of assistance. You have traveled so far to reach our humble abode, the least I can do is listen to its reason.”

                “Lady Inquisitor, this is an official summons to the High Council.” It is the Fereldan who speaks, placing an envelope on the table simultaneously. They are half expecting me to grab at the letter and read it right away, I do neither.

                “What is the purpose for this summons?” I ask. The Chantry Priestess in the middle of the two responds.

                “The High Council is concerned with the Inquisition’s growth.” She starts to wilt under my gaze. “Your armies have doubled if not tripled in size.”

                “What the esteemed Sister Marta is trying to say is that you army outnumbers Fereldan and Orlais 3 to 1.” The Envoy of Orlais softly reiterates. So that is the reason of the visit. “Our rulers are concerned that once you are finished with your task as Inquisitor that you will go back to be the Dragon Emperor and set your sights on Thedas.”

                I start to chuckle.

                “This is no laughing matter, my dear.” Vivienne speaks up from behind a column. “A summons by the High Council is very serious.”

                “I have no doubt that it is Vivienne.” My tone flat. “But as it stands making sure that two Daedric Princes don’t take over this world and enslave its people takes higher priority.”

                “You cannot expect Fereldan to sit by as you bring an army filled with elves and other ungodly creatures to our shore. I thought regular knife ears were bad enough but some of yours have red eyes, then there are those talking cats. Abominations the lot of them.” Fumes the Envoy of Fereldan, he stands to make a point banging his fist on the table for emphasis. “Not to mention you, a woman who rides a dragon, speaks like a dragon and even breaths fire as one. We have all heard the stories about magic. For all we know you could be in league with the demons that started this mess.”

                Now I consider myself a reasonable woman, a fair ruler who knows when to differ to the judgment of others. I can handle personal attacks on me and my character. But what I will not tolerate are unwarranted racist attacks on my people. I stalk to the table, steel in my eyes.

                “My dear choose your next words wisely.” Cautions Vivienne.

I stare directly into the Envoy of Fereldan’s eyes.

                “Listen well, those abominations, as you called them, saved your country and yours.” Pointing to the Envoy of Orlais. “They didn’t have to come here but they did to follow their leader, me.  Do you know why they follow me? You may think that they follow me because I can call down lighting and fire from the heavens? That I can make a dragon bend to my will? No, they follow me because I took the time to live among them and learn their ways. They follow me because I respect them. Unlike you who disregards all those who do not look like you. Call your High Council I will attend but I assure you that I will not bend.”

                The Envoy of Fereldan lowers his gaze from mine.

                “Now if you excuse me, I have a world to save.” I move away from the table, straightening my back my head held high. With a quite unnecessary flourish I turn and leave them speechless.

               

                Vivienne finds me in my quarter going over reports. She is not pleased.

                “I know that you are an Emperor my dear, but you do have to place nice with other people.” I glance up from my work.

                “There is a time and place to be nice, that was not it.” I gesture to downstairs. My door bangs open an out of breath Josephine silhouetting the frame.

                “A word, Lady Inquisitor.” She grinds out, trying her hardest to maintain decorum.

                “I believe you just said five Ambassador Montyliet.” Vivienne rolls her eyes at my cheek.

                “That tis not funny, Inquisitor. Neither was your display down in the hall.” She straightens herself, striding into the room. “We must maintain good relationships with Orlais, Fereldan and the Chantry.”

                “Why is that Josephine?” Putting down my quill. “Maybe if I was just The Inquisitor. If I were just that I would certainly bend over and take it. But I am not. I am an Emperor, a King, Arhcmage, Harbinger, to name a few. I do not have the luxury no do I have to play their games.”

                I stand from my desk, leaning on the front corner.

                “They are right to have concerns about me setting my sights on Thedas after I am done with Mehrunes Dagon. If I wanted to I could take over this land and no army could stop me.” I see their concerned faces. “But I won’t, I already have an empire and one is enough for me. In fact, I am sure that it is larger if not equal to Thedas.”

                My tone goes soft to relieve their fears.

                “Believe me when I say that I have no desire to take this land as my own. I only wish to save and protect it. Once my job here is done I shall leave this land in peace.”

 

                I return to my work after the pair have left. I am focusing on my reports when my ink well starts to float. I reach out to grab it but if floats even farther. I suppress a smile, knowing who is playing this game.

                “It is nice to see you again, Cole. Did you miss me?” I ask into the “empty air”. My ink well I gently placed back on the desk. 

                “Back, she is back, they mutter amongst themselves. Hushed voices filled with reverence one filled with love.” Cole materializes on top of my desk. His complexion is much healthier than last time. “A golden light surrounds her, a warmth. Can’t but be drawn to it like a moth to a flame.”

                Slowly his hand reaches out to touch me but stops short. I close the distance hugging him, noticing that he didn’t shy away.

                “I missed you too, Cole.” Cole relaxes into the hug. “So, what happened while I was gone.”

                Cole sits back on his heels.

                “The cats that came with you are fun to talk with. They speak of the moon and sand. Solas returned in the dead of the night. I could feel something different about him. Hawke and Varric have been very close. There is something different about the Hawke, a smaller light within her.”

                With that statement my jaw drops.


End file.
